


Make Me Brave

by Angelofalbion (Claytonator)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety Disorder, Eventual Smut, M/M, Muggle Quidditch, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claytonator/pseuds/Angelofalbion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a kind of bravery in letting yourself be scared, in showing the entirety of yourself to someone, and there’s also a kind of strength in it. Love is about finding a way to be brave through the sharp barbs of the world, of letting your fear complete you, of letting bravery drive you forward, of finding that which makes you brave enough to take the step into the next day.</p><p>Merlin is terrified of people. Arthur isn't. Arthur's pretty intrigued by Merlin. And in a whirlwind of university, panicking and broomsticks, Merlin finds himself pretty intrigued in Arthur, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Brave

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, a huge thank you goes to the After Camlann mods for running this fest - after Paper Legends finished last year I thought I'd never get a chance to take part in a Merlin Big Bang! 
> 
> Next my thanks go out to the wonderful [profiad](http://profiad.tumblr.com/) who was my artist for this fic - that cover artwork is just so spectacular, be sure to go thank them for their wonderful work!
> 
> My final thanks go to my lovely friend O, for her fantastic beta work. I couldn't have done this without you - as well you know from all my grumbling whilst writing.
> 
> Any remaining mistakes are completely mine, and there will be more information in the end notes about the fic.  
> Enjoy!

 

He settled into the rhythm of his feet hitting the trail. _Thud, thud, thud, thud._ With every minute that passed, his head grew calmer. The moon shone over-head, filtering down through the leaves of the trees lining the path, lighting his way as he ran. Music played quietly through his headphones, but he wasn’t really paying attention to it.

Merlin wasn’t really paying attention to much besides the steady drumbeat of his footfalls. He didn’t pay attention to how far he ran, or how long he ran for, he just ran. He ran until his muscles burned and his head was blissfully silent and he could fall asleep without questioning everything he had done the day before or would do the next day, because he was too tired to think.

He didn’t let himself think about what he was doing the next day. If he did, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.

The waiting room was crowded. Merlin sat with his back pressed up against the wall, taking up as little space as possible, and hoping nobody would notice how frantically he was tapping his hand on his leg. For a nervous habit, it could have been worse. He could be muttering to himself, or he could be jumping up and down, or any number of things which would be worse than some hand-tapping. He was trying to count his breaths in and out, but people kept blocking the clock so he couldn't keep up with the second hand. The room wasn’t horrendously busy, but there was a steady stream of people collecting prescriptions and getting checked out for the latest winter sickness bug which was going around. Thankfully there were still a few spare seats near him-

Scratch that.

Merlin glanced at the guy who had just sat down next to him. He looked to be uni age, like Merlin, and his floppy blond hair gave him an air of confidence, unlike Merlin. He stretched his leg out in front of him, and Merlin caught a glimpse of a heavily bruised ankle where the bloke's jeans rode up a little.

"Got it banged up in a tackle at quidditch. It'll be alright. What're you here for?"

Merlin stared at him, wide-eyed in terror. Like hell he could answer that! He involuntarily made a sort of squeaking sound as he attempted to both reply and not reply at the same time.

"Not very talkative, huh? Well, that's alright, no one wants to talk when they're ill, do they?" He gave Merlin a nudge and a wink.

Merlin flinched away from the blond's elbow, nearly falling out of his seat in an effort to not have any physical contact with this oddly friendly stranger. If the other young man noticed, he didn't make any comment.

Over the next ten minutes, he carried on a one sided conversation with Merlin, during which Merlin learned the man's name was Arthur Pendragon, he was captain of the Camelot University quidditch team, and he was staying in the Avalon accommodation block. All of this without Merlin making any kind of response.

"Merlin Emrys to room 4 please." The voice over the tannoy system interrupted Arthur's never-ending speech.

If the idea of this doctor's appointment didn't scare the living daylight out of Merlin, he would have been relieved to get away from this Arthur when he got called back. As it was, he couldn't decide which fate would be worse to suffer. 

"Now what can I do for you today, Merlin?" Doctor Mulvey didn't even look up from his computer screen as Merlin sat down in the chair next to the desk.

The words froze in Merlin's throat, and he struggled to get them out. After stuttering and stumbling for a moment, his words came out in sharp bursts, gunshots from a machine gun.

“I think I might have some sort of anxiety. I thought it would go away over Christmas – but it seems worse now. I –I can’t focus in lectures and I get panicky when strangers talk to me and – and I hate being outside alone and I don’t know what to do.” He took a deep breath, trying to ignore how his hands were shaking.

Doctor Mulvey looked up at this, but he didn't look particularly concerned. If anything, he looked bored.

"You’ve just come back from the Christmas break?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Lots of students find uni more difficult after they’ve been home for a couple months. It's nothing to worry about."

"No, it's more than that, I swear. I know what nerves and homesickness feel like, and this isn't that!"

"Come back in a few months if things haven't settled down. I expect you'll be right as rain after you’ve settled in again. Don't worry about it."

Merlin was sent away, dejected and frustrated. Hadn't he said to Freya that something like this would happen? That the doctor wouldn't believe him? It had been her idea to go in the first place.

Arthur watched Merlin leave the through the waiting room, his head down and shoulders drawn. He made a note of his name on his phone, planning on looking him up on Facebook after he got back to his flat. There was something about him which intrigued Arthur, and he wasn't sure why.

The tannoy broke through his thoughts, calling him back to see the nurse. Finally. He limped over to the room, trying to avoid putting weight on his ankle. It had been a particularly nasty tackle, and his ankle had ended up in the wrong angle at the wrong time, victim to the combined bodyweights of Arthur and Valiant of the Essetir Eagles. It was sporting some red swelling and a very impressive looking collection of purples and greens in a hideous bruise.

Luckily, it turned out to be an impact injury and not an actual sprain, so he wouldn’t be out for the rest of the season. He left the nurse with an ice pack strapped to his ankle, crutches, and strict instructions to keep the weight off it. Arthur couldn't help wondering if the nurse wouldn’t have told him to ‘be more careful next time’ in such a scathing tone if he'd said that he played rugby and not quidditch.

 

Merlin locked the door behind him when he eventually got up the stairs and into his room, sinking to the floor in a heap. He was absolutely exhausted. The stress of being at the doctors this morning had completely taken it out of him, and all he wanted to do right now was curl up in bed and sleep for a week. It hadn't even been a tiny bit useful. The doctor had just brushed it off, and confirmed Merlin's fears that no-one would believe him. He couldn't even go to sleep, as much as he wanted to, since he had a mountain of work he needed to do if he didn’t want to fall behind and fail his end of year exams. He struggled with himself, debating whether he should just ignore it until he was feeling better, or push through and work on it anyway. He was still arguing with himself when there was a quiet knock on his door.

"Merlin? Can I come in?"

It was Freya, his flatmate. The one other person who knew about his anxiety issues, and who had persuaded him to go to the doctors about it. He groaned, before unlocking the door and slumping back down along the wall next to it.

"Hey," he said by way of greeting.

"Hey," she gave him an encouraging smile. "How did it go?"

"Ugh. They just said to stop worrying and go away. That it's probably just stress and it'll go away once I’ve settled in again.”

"But that's bullshit! That's so ridiculous! Of course it's not, otherwise you wouldn't have gone to the doctors!"

Freya's ranting continued, her voice getting uncomfortably loud for Merlin, who was in desperate need of some peace and quiet right then. She noticed him wince at her volume and she dropped her voice as she sank down the wall next to him.  

"I'm sorry, it's just so ridiculous. I can't believe that's what they said." She shook her head and sighed angrily.

"It's okay, I'll just - deal with it, like I have been. I've muddled through this far, haven't I?"

"I guess..." Freya didn't sound convinced. "Anything else interesting happen today?"

"Not sure - is it normal to start up conversations in the doctor's waiting room? Like, long, detailed, mostly one-sided conversations?"

"Um. No? What happened?"

"There was a guy in the waiting room, started talking to me. At me, really. Don't think I gave him a great impression of myself, didn't really say anything back."

This led into a detailed analysis of everything the mysterious Arthur had said, prompted by Freya's ridiculous investment in Merlin's social life and the fact she was putting off reading a very dull journal article for her lecture the next day.

Arthur limped back into his flat, sitting down at his desk and stretching his legs out so they were propped up on it as he leant back in his chair. The ice pack was helping with the constant dull ache in his ankle, but he still couldn’t wait until the painkillers kicked in. He hoped it would heal in double time, he hated being out of action for quidditch. He groaned as he reached out to grab his laptop, barely able to reach it from the position he was sitting in.

He logged onto Facebook, promising himself he'd only spend ten minutes browsing before he got on with some work. Scrolling through updates on people's mundane lives wasn't the most interesting way of procrastinating, but it passed the time. Besides, there were probably some updates on the quidditch pages he followed that would pique his interest.

He hesitated before he clicked into the search bar at the top of the screen. He hadn't been able to get the guy's face out of his head all damn day. The black hair, the blue eyes which darted away from him nervously, the delicate fingers which softly drummed on his thigh. He was pretty much ten kinds of cute, and every kind Arthur was looking for. But he hadn't seemed interested. He hadn't engaged him at all, no matter how hard he'd tried and how many opportunities Arthur had given him. Maybe he was shy -or maybe he just didn't like Arthur. But just a little Facebook search couldn't do any harm, surely. He was just idly curious about the handsome guy he met at the doctors, nothing more and nothing less. And once said curiosity was satisfied, then that would be that.

He punched in the letters 'Merlin Emris', hoping he had gotten the spelling right.  His search returned no matches. Damn. He definitely hadn't gotten 'Merlin' wrong, so what other ways were there of spelling 'Emris'? Arthur scratched his head, frowning slightly as he thought about the possible variations.

It took a few tries but he eventually got a few hits. It didn't take long to rule them out - one was in his forties, one was living in Japan, and a couple others' profile pictures just weren't right. That left him with one profile left. He clicked it -

\- and groaned in frustration. The entire thing was locked down under private settings. The only things Merlin left public were his name, his country and his profile picture. Arthur glared accusingly at the pixelated image, annoyed he couldn't find out anything else about this guy. He half considered sending a friend request just so he could see more of his profile, but he figured someone this private wouldn't want strange people from the doctor's waiting room to access his personal information. Which was fair enough, really.

Arthur looked at the time, and sighed heavily when he realised it was time for him to start work. He reluctantly closed the tab, committing the picture to memory as he did. He wanted to know more about Merlin, he really did. He just had to convince himself that he didn't.

 

It had been a couple weeks since the ill-fated doctor's appointment, and Merlin was walking home from his last lecture of the day. It was a reasonably sunny day, and there didn't seem to be too many people around, so he risked walking through the park on his way back to his accommodation. He tried not to pay too much attention to anything as he walked, focussing instead on the lecture he'd just come from. He couldn't remember half of it - he'd been too busy trying to breathe normally, and not have a panic attack in a crowded lecture theatre. He didn't even remember what it was that had set the anxiety off - maybe it was the cacophony of noise before the lecture began, or maybe it was something the lecturer said? Freya would tell him he needed to focus on the positives, and not criticise himself for nearly panicking in the first place. So he did. He reminded himself that he hadn't _actually_ panicked. He told himself that was an improvement on the last time, when he'd run from the room, crying andshaking, and went to hide in the bathroom for the next half hour whilst he calmed down. Even then, he'd had to call Freya to come walk back to the flat with him. He didn't always feel brave enough to face the streets alone.

He could see some people running back and forth, tackling each other to the ground, not too far away. They looked like a sports team of some kind, but he couldn't tell what. It didn't look like any sport he knew of. Curiosity got the better of him, and he chose the path which forked towards their field, rather than away from it. He tried not to make it too obvious that he was staring at them through the trees on the edge of the path as he walked past, jumping when the whistle was blown in the three short blasts. All the players dropped the long sticks they were holding between their legs and jogged over to the side of the grass, getting drinks from water bottles and exchanging jokes. He thought he'd managed to get past them without drawing their attention when one of the players - a tall, striking blond leaning against one of the trees - caught his gaze and cocked his head.

Arthur tried to place the face. The guy walking past was lanky, so skinny it looked like his backpack would overbalance him any second, and somehow familiar. He was going to shrug it off and go back to giving his teammates feedback on the game, but then the guy ducked his head a certain way and suddenly Arthur recognised him. His head was bent at the same angle as the Facebook picture, the one he was trying to forget, tilted as if he could hide from Arthur's gaze. Before he knew it he was running across the pitch, wincing as it jarred his injured ankle, ready to catch Merlin before he could walk away.

As soon as Merlin realised the blond guy was coming towards him, he started walking down the path as fast as he could, his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets. Shit. He knew he shouldn’t have come this way. Now he was going to be stuck in another awkward one-sided conversation with the weird guy from the doctors - what was his name again? As long as he kept walking, it would be fine, he told himself, as his heart began to race and his breathing became erratic. He could feel the burn of tears pricking at his eyes and he squeezed them shut, refusing to cry. He wouldn't, not here, not in public. _Come on,_ he thought, _just hold it together until you get home. Just get back to the flat, back to the flat, back to the flat, back to the-_

"Hey! Merlin, wasn't it?" Arthur grabbed his shoulder and he flinched away, turning around to tell him to leave him alone so he could escape to the haven of his bedroom. The words choked his throat as he saw Arthur do a double take. Of course, now he hadn't only acted like an idiot at the doctors, he looked like one here, about to cry and shaking and out of breath. He knew what he looked like when he was about to panic. He knew he couldn't hide the panic in his eyes.

"Are you okay, mate? I didn't mean to startle you."

"'M fine. And I'm not your mate." He turned to walk away, hoping that would be the end of it.

"Sorry! Just thought you looked interested in what we were doing, that was all. And then I recognised you from the doctors and thought I'd explain. If you wanted." Arthur was feeling less and less sure of himself by the second. Merlin looked like he was about to throw up. Was he really okay? He didn't _look_ like the dictionary definition of okay.

"Um." Was there a way out of this situation without seeming rude? Merlin didn't particularly want to stay, but he would also rather not give a bad impression to Arthur, not when he was clearly just trying to be friendly.

"Do you know the Harry Potter books?"

Merlin nodded, confused. That question didn't seem at all relevant to the conversation.

"Oh good, that makes this conversation a lot easier." It did? "We're playing a muggle version of Quidditch. Basically we run around on brooms and play pretty similar rules to the books. Apart from the flying. And the part where the bludgers are made of iron. Do you want to see?"

It was strange. Merlin hadn't run home and locked himself inside his room, and yet he was feeling calmer. Maybe it was something about Arthur's voice, or his manner, but something was helping him relax, even if only slightly. He still wasn't hugely willing to speak though, so he just nodded. Arthur continued to explain the rules as they wandered over to the pitch.

"So the chasers wear a white headband and use a volleyball called the quaffle, to score points through the hoops. Beaters throw the bludgers at the other team to stop them from scoring and passing - like dodgeball. They wear black headbands. If you get hit you run back to your own hoops and then once you touch them you're back in play. Keepers are green and they guard the hoops, but they can also act like chasers. The seekers and snitch aren't on the pitch to start with - they play kind of like hide and seek until they come back onto the pitch. Seekers have yellow headbands and the snitch is just a player with a tennis ball in a sock sticking out the back of their shorts which the seekers have to grab.  That's the basics of it." He paused and waved at the team gathered round the trees, still just chatting whilst they waited for Arthur. "Everyone, this is Merlin. Merlin, this is everyone. He's going to watch for a bit."

There were general sounds of greeting and acknowledgement from the team. They weren't the sort of people you might expect on a sports team, Merlin thought. Only one or two of them looked remotely athletic, but maybe athleticism wasn't valued so much in quidditch.

They started playing a small game while Merlin leaned against a tree, trying to seem more relaxed than he was, the knot of tension in his gut still making him feel vaguely ill. Despite his extensive knowledge of Harry Potter, which he hadn't managed to voice to Arthur whilst he was outlining the rules, the game looked totally chaotic. Balls were flying everywhere, and he saw one guy rolling around in the mud in a tackle more than once. He only managed to recognise him as the same person because he had tattoos on his arm, from his wrist all the way up and disappearing under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was moving too fast for Merlin to get a good look at the ink, but it seemed to be some kind of tribal design. Although the game looked impossibly confusing as Merlin watched, it did look fun. Everybody was grinning as they played, and no one took it too seriously. It was like watching a group of friends play 5-a-side football on a Sunday afternoon, except with more violence, mud, and balls.

When they finally stopped, everyone was out of breath and they crowded round to get more water, forcing Merlin to stumble backwards so he didn't get caught up in the crowd. As much as he thought they were all a friendly bunch, he didn't want to get caught up in the middle of them. Not when he wasn't having the best of days already.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but he ended up staying and watching until the end of their practice, when Arthur offered to walk back with him and keep him company. Merlin was glad that he had the excuse of living in the opposite direction so he could be alone again. His social interaction quota for the day was nearly at its limit. Even so, the two chatted for a couple of minutes before they parted ways.

"So, think you might be interested in playing? We're always looking out for new members."

"I - uh, thanks for the offer. I'm just not sure it's my kind of thing. I don't want to slow you guys down."

"I can tell you're interested though," Arthur replied with a knowing smile. "How about we talk about it sometime, over coffee? You can ask me any more questions you have about it, and get to know me a little better. Then the rest of the team won't be quite so scary."

How did he realise Merlin wasn't comfortable with loud groups of strangers? Or was he just being polite? Merlin cursed his ability for always finding a way to doubt himself. Merlin wondered with a start if Arthur was just like him - terrified of people, and just coping with it better. And then the illusion shattered.

Arthur grabbed Merlin's wrist, pulling it towards him so he could write on the pale skin. Merlin froze.

"Look, there's my number, just drop me a text sometime, and we'll organise something, yeah? It was nice meeting you properly, Merlin. See you later!" Arthur waved as he jogged off, catching up with the team and offering to help carry equipment.

Merlin just stood there, trying to process what had just happened. The second Arthur had touched his wrist his mind had gone blank in terror. And yet...and yet nothing bad had happened. He had been manhandled and he was still breathing, still standing, still living.

Merlin had a very specific list of situations he didn't like, all the occasions when his anxiety overwhelmed him and he drowned in panic.

1\. Large crowds, especially noisy ones.

2\. Strangers on the street at night.

3\. Strangers touching him in any way, even just accidentally brushing up against him on the street as they crossed paths.

4\. Eating sit-down meals in a room with people he didn't know well.

5\. People asking questions with a pressure for him to be right.

6\. The sensation of raw meat when holding it or chopping it for cooking. Or anything slimy, for that matter.

7\. Stepping in water in bare feet or socks.

The list was almost certainly longer, and Merlin realised it would probably keep getting longer unless he got help for his anxiety, but the doctors didn’t seem to believe him, and he didn’t know where else to go. He wasn't entirely sure how he had managed to get back to his flat without shaking visibly after Arthur had taken hold of his wrist. He knew it was stupid to be afraid of such a thing, he didn't even know why it scared him like it did. But he just couldn't control how it made him feel. And maybe that scared him more than anything on the list - the fear of not being in control of his own mind threatened to drown him. Still. He'd gotten through it, hadn't he? That would be something Freya would tell him to be proud of. So he tried.

(He saved the phone number into his mobile with a secret hidden grin, trying not to feel too ridiculous about it.)

Arthur wasn't really expecting too much to come of giving Merlin his number. He thought he might get a polite text refusing a meeting after a few days and that would be it. He hoped to god it wasn't - he'd seen the keen spark of interest in Merlin's eyes when they'd been talking about quidditch. Well. When he'd been talking at Merlin about quidditch was probably more accurate. He was definitely interested in being involved, he could tell. It was just a case of working out what was holding him back.

He'd looked damn terrified when Arthur had first stopped him, something which didn't really make sense to Arthur's mind. He'd just touched his shoulder, called his name a few times - nothing to warrant that reaction, surely?

Arthur tried to shrug it off, it wasn't his business after all. And if he got a text then that was great, but if not, then no hard feelings about it.

MERLIN: Hey Arthur, was wondering about meeting up for that coffee?

Arthur stared at his phone in surprise before breaking out into a grin. An unexpected text, certainly, but not an unwelcome one.

ARTHUR: Sure, got any idea when you want to meet? What's your timetable like?

If Arthur had known that Merlin was pacing back and forth in his bedroom nervously awaiting his reply, he wouldn't have taken so long to send it.

MERLIN: Don't have many contact hours, I'm free pretty much whenever. Whenever works best for you

ARTHUR: Erm, how about next Friday afternoon? My seminar finishes at 2

MERLIN: That sounds fine, meet at Costa?

ARTHUR: See you there

Arthur had planned on leaving it there, and just talking when they met up. But his curiosity got the better of him.

ARTHUR: Just wondering, were you alright on Wednesday? You seemed kind of ... jumpy

It was at this point Merlin ran to Freya's room and deferred to her better judgement as to how to reply. Arthur just got a lot of radio silence as he waited for the reply.

"Look Merlin, I can't help you! It all depends on if you want to tell him about your anxiety or not."

"But I don't know if I _should_ tell him, never mind if I want to!"

"Well, do you want to get involved with the quidditch team?"

"Yes!"

"Then is Arthur knowing about your anxiety going to make it easier or harder for you to do that?"

Freya raised her eyebrow at Merlin when he made vague sounds of anguished indecision.

"I can't make the decision for you! Now shoo, I've got to finish this coursework and get it handed in by 4 pm and I can't do that with you here."

MERLIN: Yeah, I have a bit of an anxiety issue. Makes me jumpy around people sometimes. Sorry.

Merlin tossed the phone off the side if his bed and curled up in a tight ball under the duvet, terrified of what Arthur would say to that. He couldn't believe he'd actually pressed send.

Across campus, Arthur looked at his phone and froze with his cup of tea halfway between the table and his lips as he processed what it meant. That had come out of nowhere. Gwaine came into the kitchen and laughed at him, which shocked him out of his momentary freeze.

“Don’t let the gears grind too hard, Arthur, you know it sets off the smoke alarm.” Gwaine teased, amused by Arthur’s expression of confusion.

"Wha-? Oh, yeah. Sorry, just got a bit on an unexpected text."

"Care to share?"

"No, no I don't think I should," Arthur shook his head slowly and took his cup of tea back to his room.

Really, it made sense that Merlin had an ‘anxiety issue’, as he put it. Arthur hadn’t exactly thought about it before, and truth be told he didn’t know the first thing about mental illnesses, but it sure helped explain why Merlin had acted the way he had at the doctor’s and at the quidditch practice.

He sat down at his desk, wondering how he should respond to Merlin's text. What was the appropriate response in a situation like this? Growing up with Uther’s stiff-upper-lip attitude hadn’t given him any experience he could draw on. He was tempted to google it, and then realised that he really should think of what to say himself.

ARTHUR: Okay, no problem. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. And thanks for telling me

Merlin physically flinched as the phone vibrated against the floor, the sound rattling through his bones. Unwilling, he uncurled his tense muscles and stretched out his arm for the phone, dreading the response. And then breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. _Oh, thank god._ Arthur didn't think he was a lunatic, he didn't ridicule him, he didn't do any of the worst case scenarios running through Merlin's head. He'd just accepted it.

Merlin nearly cried with relief.

The week passed in relative boredom for the both of them, and endless cycle of sleep and reading and lectures. Merlin dutifully referenced his assignments and met deadlines, and Arthur debated his readings in his seminars and slowly Friday crept closer.

And then it was Friday and Merlin couldn't leave the house.

His legs wouldn't work. He couldn't make them move towards the door, no matter how much he tried. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he tried to make himself move, but even the tiniest shuffle sent his mind into loops of panic, the words spiralling out of control in his head _I can't do it I can't do it I can't do it I can't do it I can't oh god oh god oh god what's he gonna think if I go I'll just seem like a freak I shouldn't have told him about my anxiety oh god oh god oh god no oh god stop it stop stop it just calm down just breathe SHIT I can't breathe I can’t breathe I CAN'T BREATHE I’M DYING FUCK NO OH GOD OH GOD NO I CAN'T BREATHE I CAN'T -_

Merlin started hyperventilating, his breath coming in tiny gasps as he struggled to get enough oxygen into his lungs, his hands shaking uncontrollably. His legs gave way underneath him and his hands clawed at his hair as he tried to stop the panic attack, but he was too far under. He couldn't pull it together, not by himself, not now. He curled up in a ball, trembling all over as he sobbed and choked and coughed and lost himself in the blind panic which came over him in tidal waves.

He didn't know how much time had passed when his breathing started to slow down, his heart rate relaxing once again. He sank down into the floor, exhausted physically and mentally as the terror subsided. He shivered all over as he realised the heating in his room had turned off some time ago and now it was decidedly chilly. 

The noise of his phone receiving a text nearly set him off again, but he forced himself to keep his breaths slow and even as he pulled it out of his pocket, the tremors in his hands not quite gone as he tried to read the message.

ARTHUR: I'm here, where are you? Can't see you

Merlin groaned and dropped the phone onto the carpet. Shit. He'd made Arthur go to the coffee shop for nothing. He may as well just tell him the truth - he'd already told him that he had anxiety problems anyway, he didn't really have anything left to lose.

MERLIN: Sorry, can't come. Just had a panic attack trying to leave the flat.

ARTHUR: Is there anything you need me to do? And don't worry about it, we can get coffee some other time

Arthur hoped that was an appropriate response. He'd researched what he could about anxiety since Merlin had told him, but he hadn't really known where to start. He didn't exactly have much information to go on. As Arthur started walking back to his flat, he wondered what could have set off the panic attack. He felt sick to his stomach when he realised it was possible that it was the prospect of meeting up with him.

MERLIN: No, I'll be okay, but thanks for offering

 

The next Friday came around and this time Merlin managed to leave the flat. Admittedly, Freya was accompanying him, since she had to hit the library, but at least he was on his way to the coffee shop. The biggest hurdle was done with. He could do this. He _could._ He kept telling himself this over and over again, hoping it would become some kind of positive self-fulfilling prophecy.

Freya left him outside the coffee shop, promising to back at the flat in time for them to order pizza for tea.

Merlin scanned the shop nervously as he walked in, trying to spot Arthur's blond hair amongst the rest of the patrons. A wave from the corner caught his eye and he relaxed a little as he walked over to the table Arthur was sat at.

"Hey, how're you?" Arthur greeted him with his customary friendly smile.

"I'm okay, you?"

"Good, good, no complaints. Well, other than far too much work, but isn't that just kind of a state of existence?"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess it is." Merlin laughed, releasing the tension from his chest. He wondered if Arthur was purposefully trying to put him at ease or if that was just how Arthur acted with everyone.

"Shall I order? What do you want?"

"Huh? Oh, um, just a hot chocolate's fine. Here, I've got change if you need it." Merlin pawed through his backpack, trying to find his wallet so he could give Arthur the money he needed.

"Don't worry about it, my treat." Arthur walked off to the counter to order before Merlin had a chance to protest and insist that he could pay for his own drink, thank you very much.

Then again, when Arthur returned with an elaborate concoction of cream and marshmallows which Merlin wouldn't have forked out for, he didn't really feel like he should complain all that much.

"So. Quidditch. You still interested?" Arthur sipped at his cappuccino, trying not to burn his tongue in the process.

"Yeah, yeah, I am. Just, y'know, not sure if I'd be any good at it."

"You'll only find out if you try, mate. Come along on Wednesday and have a go. I swear it's not as confusing to play as it is to watch."

"I might. I haven't decided properly if I want to play. Not sure it'd be for me."

Arthur studied Merlin's expression for a moment, noticing how Merlin was stirring his drink far more than necessary, his eyes darting to the side as he felt the pressure of his gaze.

"Some of us are going out to the pub tomorrow night, you could come along and get to know the lads there if you wanted."

Merlin was silently grateful that Arthur seemed to have understood his reluctance for jumping straight into playing full contact sport with a group of strangers.

"That sounds alright, where are you going?"

"Just the pub up the road - The Round Table- do you know it?"

"Oh, yeah, I've been there before. I like it there." Merlin smiled at Arthur, and Arthur realised that was the first time he'd seen Merlin properly smile.

"Yeah, not all of the team is going, but there'll be maybe half of them there? Depends who shows up really."

They sat and chatted long after they'd finished their drinks, the dregs at the bottom of their cups getting cold and the sky changing colour as the sun began to set.

"Oh, shit! Look at the time! I've got to get back, my flatmate'll be wondering where I am." Merlin jumped up as he realised he was late. Freya was probably expecting him back an hour ago.

Arthur walked home slowly, enjoying the heat of the fading sun on his skin, recalling how adorably flustered Merlin had been when he'd rushed out the coffee shop. He tried not to let himself get too excited about seeing him at the pub the following night.

It turned out that Freya actually hadn't been worrying all that much about Merlin being late - in fact, she scolded him when he turned up at the flat, telling him he should have stayed out longer. Merlin suddenly realised that Freya was more like his Mum than he'd previously thought.

 

The next night at The Round Table, Merlin found himself surrounded by a group of raucous lads who were doing their best not to overwhelm him. There was Gwaine, the student with the tattoos Merlin had noticed before, whose jokes and flirty comments had Merlin straddling the border between comfortable and uncomfortable. Lancelot, a medical student, was the quietest of the group - well, other than Merlin anyway - and he sat in the back corner nursing a pint, joining in with the conversation every now and then but mainly just content to sit and listen and observe. Percival was the kind of guy who would have intimidated Merlin all the way out of the gym and back home to Ealdor. Inadvertently, Merlin found himself comparing him to a shire horse - terrifyingly big, but a real sweetheart underneath. Leon was the only other member of the group whose hair could rival Gwaine's glossy black locks with his ginger mane and an easy smile. He sat next to Merlin, who was sandwiched between him and Arthur. Without really noticing, Merlin found himself relaxing into the group, and when they were later joined by Elyan and Mordred he realised he didn't even mind that he was now in a group of people which he'd pretty much only just met and somehow he was staying calm about the whole thing.

Arthur asked him to carry the next round back from the bar and took the opportunity to have a quick word with him.

"What d'you think of that lot then? They're a bit loud at first, but none of 'em would hurt a fly."

"They're great, yeah! Thanks for inviting me out, Arthur, I really appreciate it. I'm having a great time."

Arthur took the easy grin on Merlin's face as proof enough of that fact.

When it came to last orders at the bar, the group stood up and released a collective groan as they realised just how much they'd actually drunk. As they walked towards the door, Merlin found himself stumbling over into Arthur's side, who caught him so he wouldn't topple over completely. He looked up as he regained his balance, right into Arthur's bright blue eyes. Coughing awkwardly, Merlin smoothed out his shirt for want of something to do so he could look away from Arthur's intense gaze. There was a tension between them that hadn't been there before.

Merlin felt like a right klutz after that, and concentrated very carefully on walking out the door without any more incidents like that. He was totally sober enough to go home by himself. Totally. Or so he thought.

They were all gathered on the street outside the pub, in the amber glow of the streetlights, shouting out goodbyes as they split off into twos and threes to go home, until it was just Merlin and Arthur left.

"You can come back to mine if you want. The others won't mind, y'know. You can just stay the night and go home tomorrow."

Arthur waited with baited breath for Merlin's response.

"Um. I mean, if you're sure. I wouldn't want to impose, I'll be fine getting back, but -"

"It'll be fine. Besides, mine is closer and I'm not sure your balance will last all the way back to yours."

Which was how Merlin found himself walking back through the university campus towards Arthur's flat at nearly midnight. Under a full moon no less, Merlin noticed as he wondered when his life turned into some kind of stupid rom-com film. Arthur had his arm slung across Merlin's shoulders, in the interests of keeping them both upright, so he claimed. The silence around them grew and grew as they made their way through the various poorly lit paths and sets of steps until eventually they reached Arthur's accommodation block. It was true, Arthur's was closer than Merlin's was, all the way on the other side of campus.

There was a moment of awkwardness when they realised Arthur's bed was only a single and so one of them would have sleep on the floor or find some other place to crash in the flat. Arthur, insistent that he was going to be a good host to his slightly drunken friend, forced Merlin to curl up in the duvet before he went off to see if the sofa in the shared living room was free of clutter enough for him to lie on it.

For a minute or so when Merlin woke up, before he opened his eyes and recognised that the throbbing in his head was a hangover and that he was going to have to walk back to his flat in last night's clothes, he just lay in Arthur's bed and listened to the sounds of the flat as people began to wake up and move about. He heard the kettle boiling distantly, the clinking of mugs as they made coffee, muffled voices barely penetrating through the walls. Then Merlin remembered whose bed he was sleeping in, and why he was sleeping in that bed, and even though nothing had happened between them, he remembered how it had felt like something _could_ have happened and started blushing furiously.

He stumbled into the kitchen to find Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot and a couple of girls crowded around a table and countertop which were far too small for all of them to use comfortably at once. Merlin thought he recognised one of them, her messy brown hair and green eyes vaguely familiar. Arthur lifted his hand in greeting before ducking his head back down to his coffee, inhaling the steam like that would somehow make the caffeine more effective. Gwaine and Lancelot didn't even make any comment about the fact Merlin had spent the night in Arthur's bed, making Merlin wonder if maybe Arthur had already told them to avoid any awkward conversations this morning. Merlin slipped in between people and perched himself against the radiator along the back wall to join the conversation, which quickly became focused on him.

"Who's the guest, then, Arthur? Aren’t you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Merlin, this is Mithian," Arthur gestured at brown-hair-green-eyes, "and Gwen." He pointed at the girl who had spoken, whose white towelling dressing gown was in sharp contrast to her dark skin. She gave him a warm smile, the freckles on her cheeks showing up under the harsh lighting of the kitchen.

"Do you want any breakfast, Merlin? Or a drink? Or maybe just some painkillers, judging from that grimace!" Gwen laughed, the sound happy and bright, as she found some paracetamol and a glass of water for Merlin to swallow the pills down with.

"Arthur, you're clearly a bad influence on poor Merlin. He seems like he's probably pretty sensible when he's not out with you, you plonker." Mithian declared her judgement, finally leaning back in her chair and removing her gaze from Merlin, satisfied in her examination of him. “Or at least, he’s always seemed very sensible in lectures.”

"He can't be that sensible if he's considering playing on the same pitch as you. You're a bloody nightmare to play against!" Arthur threw back in that easy way friends who constantly insult each other do. “Also, you know Merlin?”

“Sure I do, we’re on the same course. We’re zoology buddies.” She flashed an easy smile at Merlin, and suddenly it clicked where he recognised her from. The zoology department wasn’t all that large, and even if he generally avoided speaking to people at all in his lectures, he could pick out some faces here and there.

“Wait, do you play quidditch too?” Merlin asked Mithian, and she laughed.

“We all do – Arthur dragged us into it!”

“Why weren’t you at the pub last night then? I thought that was like, some sort of team-bonding, or something.”

“Oh, _that._ ” Gwen rolled her eyes, amused. “They all played football in sixth form, and someone-” She punctuated her speech with a pointed look at Gwaine, who just grinned. “-decided that it should be a tradition that they all go to the pub every week.”

“Not only that, but The Round Table pretty much only has beer. There isn’t a decent bottle of wine to be found anywhere in there.” Mithian let out a put-upon sigh and dropped her shoulders dramatically.

  
“You don’t even drink wine, you rotten liar!” cried Gwaine.

 

As Merlin was leaving, Arthur leaned against the doorway.

"Drop me a text, yeah? We'll have to see what we can get sorted for you playing with the others, if you still want to after seeing them last night."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks for letting me stay, Arthur, I had a great time last night."

"No problem mate. See you later." Arthur waved him off, and watched from the doorway as Merlin's lanky silhouette disappeared around the corner before going back in to the chaos of his flatmates as they argued over whose turn it was to cook Sunday dinner.

Merlin wasn't quite sure when it happened, but somehow his life turned into one which revolved around quidditch and not university work, even though he wasn't actually playing quidditch. He and Arthur texted nearly constantly as their friendship grew (and Merlin tried to ignore those few moments of sexual tension from the pub). Somewhere along the line, Merlin stopped worrying so much about what Arthur was going to think of him for saying a certain joke, or acting a certain way, and he relaxed into the easy comfort of their friendship. He and Freya split cooking their meals, went out to the pub and moaned about essays. He and Arthur spent time in each other’s flats, and a wide variety of coffee shops, and Merlin had become a weekly addition to the lads’ trip to The Round Table every Saturday. And if some weeks he didn't turn up, and he just sent a quick text to Arthur letting him now that it wasn't such a good day and he'd rather not then that was okay. While Arthur enjoyed spending time with Merlin, and he loved talking to him and getting to know him, he realised that they actually hadn't discussed Merlin playing quidditch at all for quite a while. It was almost as if they'd only needed that as a starting point and now Merlin was very happy to let it go and just hang out with the team (never mind the fact he hadn't even met them all yet).

The truth was that Merlin was still kind of desperate to play the game with the others, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Arthur why he was so reluctant to get involved. He liked everyone well enough, but the fact was that his anxiety wasn't getting any better. He still missed lectures and things with Arthur because he couldn't leave the house, he still panicked in class and missed half of the important information. His grades were struggling and so was he. He just wasn't particularly struggling around Arthur anymore, and that wasn't something that Merlin wanted to screw up. His friendship with Arthur felt almost precious - Arthur was the first real friend he'd made at uni, other than Freya who had gone to the same high school as him and so they'd already known each other anyway. Telling Arthur the real reason he didn't want to play quidditch felt like admitting a weakness somehow, no matter how many times Freya reassured him that it wasn't. Despite the fact Arthur had never been anything but understanding about his issues, Merlin couldn't bring himself to trust him with that information.

Merlin didn't want to play quidditch because he didn't like strangers touching him. 

It was a simple as that. How could he play a full contact sport when he hated a stranger brushing up against him on the street? There was no way he'd be able to cope with it. So, he just pretended like he was fine with not playing. And he'd happily have kept it that way if only Arthur hadn’t asked him to go along with him to pick up a few groceries.

They'd just decided to meet up and go for coffee in the city instead of near the uni for a change, and Arthur had said he needed to buy some bits and bobs so they were walking to the supermarket. Everything had been fine, they'd just been walking along the street, exchanging jibes as per usual, and then disaster struck.

Just as they started walking past, a whole load of tourists began piling off their coach and filling up the street, milling around as they waited for everyone to get off so they could do a head count. Merlin and Arthur got caught up in the mass of people, leaving Merlin stranded. All he could see was strangers and backpacks and a lot of people who weren't Arthur. He spun around, searching for him as his heart began to race and his lungs tightened in fear as he realised he couldn't see Arthur's blond hair _anywhere_.

And then someone with a large rucksack bumped into him, sending him careering forward into more people, and then that was it. He was bounced from person to person in the crowd as he struggled to get out of them, but they just seemed to keep growing, multiplying like bacteria, a heaving, teeming mass, inescapable, and Merlin's mind went blank as the terror kicked in.

He was lost in the cacophony of sound, the crescendo of voices all around him and he twisted and turned, tried to fight his way out, all the while his brain was turning circles over and over and over.

_I need to get out oh god oh god oh god get out get out get out CALM DOWN YOU CAN DO THIS JUST BREATHE oh god no i can't breathe there’s too many people so many people no no no please stop touching me oh god just leave me alone too many people too many too many help oh god please someone help me help i can’t get out i'm trapped trapped trapped someone help me please oh god i can't breathe i can't breathe i can't breathe help PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME HELP I CAN'T GET OUT I CANT-_

Arthur finally caught a glimpse of Merlin from the side of the crowd, where he had been waiting for him to emerge. His face was red and his hands were shaking as he covered his ears and pushed his fingers into his hair, clutching at this head. His eyes were wild and wide and filled with fear and Arthur suddenly processed what was happening. Merlin had said his anxiety made him jumpy around people. And there were a _lot_ of people. Probably too many people for him to cope with. He was frozen to the spot, lost in his panic as he struggled to breathe, tears falling down his cheeks from the sheer terror of the situation.

Arthur pushed and shoved people out of the way, not caring how rude he was being or what dirty glares he got from the tourists as he waded his way through to Merlin. Grabbing hold of his arm, he caught his attention, but there was barely a flicker of recognition in Merlin's eyes as he stared at him. Arthur felt a heartwrenching ache in his chest. Curling around Merlin protectively he began weaving their way back out of the crown, hoping to find a quiet corner where Merlin could calm down. _Shit. How do you calm someone down from a panic attack? Why the hell didn't I look that up before? Oh god, I'm a terrible friend._  

He pulled him down a sidestreet used for deliveries at the back of the supermarket, thankful no one else was around and jumped back in surprise as Merlin struggled to get away from him.

Merlin pushed the heavy weight of Arthur's arm off his back and stumbled backwards a few paces, holding his arms up in front of him like they could protect him. He was still crying and shaking and choking on the air in his lungs but when Arthur tried to go put a reassuring hand on his shoulder he was violently rejected.

" _Don't touch me!"_ Merlin managed to shout out between his sobs. He paced even further backwards from Arthur, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"Okay, okay, I won't touch you." Arthur held his hands out in a placating gesture, wondering why he had gotten such an extreme reaction from Merlin. He hadn't done anything threatening had he? He didn't think so, but then again, what with his lack of experience and lack of research, he wasn't really in a position to make that judgement call.

"Look, just try to calm down okay?"

" _I'm trying!"_ Merlin screamed back at him, the desperation clear in his eyes, and even if it wasn't the grating cry of his voice certainly made it clear enough.

Arthur stopped moving, trying to think of the best way to help his friend. He racked his brain, trying to remember something, _anything_ that he'd read online when he'd first looked up anxiety disorders. What should he focus on first? Dammit! What should he do? The only idea he could come up with was treating Merlin like he was having an asthma attack like Leon used to have. He was clutching at straws, praying that what he was about to do would work.

"Okay, let’s try this, Merlin. Breathe with me. I'll count your breaths for you. Let's breathe nice and slowly, okay?"

Merlin seemed to nod slightly at that suggestion, but with all the shaking and trembling, it was kind of hard to tell.

"Right then, in and out, in two three four, out two three four, in two three four, out two three four, " Arthur didn't know how long he carried on chanting the same rhythm, gradually slowing Merlin's breathing down.

The tension seemed to leave Merlin's body all at once, leaving his muscles unsure what to do and he fell to his knees in the street, his body still trembling slightly. Arthur wasn't sure if he should get too close, not wanting to set off another wave of panic. He edged closer, hoping to reassure Merlin, maybe ask him a couple of questions, but he didn't really want to cross the line.

Merlin was still crouched on the floor, his head bent so Arthur couldn't see his expression, but he took baby steps towards him, trying not to make much noise as he went.

"Merlin? Merlin, talk to me. Are you okay? Can you breathe?"

Merlin raised a hand, signalling for Arthur to _shut the hell up_. He would have laughed, if the last traces of fear weren't still coursing his body, laughed at Arthur's puppy-like concern. But how Arthur expected he could answer three different requests at once was beyond him.

"Need a minute - catch my breath", he wheezed out, rocking back on his heels to sit on the ground, despite the fact it was cold and kind of damp from the previous day’s rain.

Arthur swung his arms awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself in the silence as Merlin composed himself in the aftermath of his panic. He sighed heavily before finally looking up at Arthur's concerned face.

"Sorry. I'm alright now. Sorry about that."

"No, don't apologise, it's alright. It's not exactly something you can control, right? So you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Well, yeah, I guess. Still feel like shit though. Didn't mean to shout at you."

"It's okay, you were panicking. I didn't really know what to do so," Arthur trailed off.

"You did fine, Arthur. Not that it was a test or anything. But thanks for getting me out of there."

"No problem." Arthur went and sat down on the ground next to Merlin, leaning back and pressing his palms into the tarmac behind him. "If you don't mind me asking, what set it off?"

Merlin glanced down at the ground and was silent for a long moment before he replied.

"Crowds aren't my thing in general, but I guess it caught me unawares. And then I got knocked into someone and everyone was just kind of pressing around me. I'm not the best with physical contact." Merlin finished with a half-smile and a shrug, trying to brush off how serious the episode had been.

"Oh. Are you alright though? That looked pretty rough."

"Well, it's not a walk in the park, that's for sure. I'll be fine, I'm just tired now. You'd be surprised just how much panicking takes out of you." Merlin tried for a small joke, but his words fell flat as Arthur considered what he really meant behind them, and they hung in the air awkwardly instead of being bounced right back.

"Do you want to go back home then? We don't have to go shopping if you don't want to. I can get groceries some other time."

Merlin flashed Arthur one of his rare true smiles, this one small and appreciative, flush with gratitude.

"Yeah, that'd probably be for the best."

They pulled themselves up off the ground, trying to shake off the cold feeling which had crept into their muscles and bones whilst they'd sat there. Arthur walked just half a step behind Merlin, letting him take the lead and find the least crowded paths back to their flats.

It was only hours later that Arthur fully realised what Merlin had said. 'I'm not the best with physical contact' had been his words. And suddenly Merlin's silent refusal to discuss playing quidditch made sense. He wanted to, but it was a full contact sport. Arthur grabbed his phone.

ARTHUR: You don't want to play quidditch because of the contact, is that it?

MERLIN: Yeah - can't really handle it as shown by today’s little episode

ARTHUR: Why didn't you say something you idiot, we could have worked something out

MERLIN: And make the rest of the team play non-contact for practices when competitions are full IQA contact rules? Does that really sound like something I'd do?

ARTHUR: Season’s over now anyway, wouldn't have made a difference. We could practice over the summer with non-contact J

MERLIN: No one’s gonna be around in summer, and I'll be back at Ealdor anyway :/

ARTHUR: And I'll be in Engerd, practically next door to you, we can practice together - you know you want to

MERLIN: Wait, you live in Engerd?

ARTHUR: Sometimes - Mum lives there, Dad lives in Camelot.

MERLIN: I don't want to-

The phone started ringing as he was typing out his reply.

"Before you say anything, no, it won't be an inconvenience, I'll be running and things anyway to keep my fitness up and you'd be a very welcome addition to stop me from going crazy in my own company."

"I...um. Okay?"

"Yes! I knew you'd come round - you're going to love it, Merlin. I can't wait to see you play, I bet you'd be a great beater. It's always the quiet ones who make great beaters."

And with that Arthur was on a roll, talking tactics and drills and rules and Merlin couldn't help but grin, infected by Arthur's joy. By the time the end of term came around, Merlin was sure that even if he was terrible Arthur wouldn't let him stop playing anyway.

 

It was with a great feeling of relief that Merlin walked out of his last exam. His first year at university was, by some bizarre miracle, over and done with and he'd actually managed to muddle his way through it. Arthur had finished a few days earlier but had stuck around so they could travel back on the same train. The last week had been a hectic mix of packing and revision and coursework deadlines and making sure nobody took home someone else's things. It seemed surreal that he'd actually been at university for a whole year, and it actually hadn't gone all that badly. All he had to do now was make sure he didn't miss his train with Arthur.

To be fair, it really wasn't that long of a train ride, but Merlin was still glad that Arthur had decided to travel with him. Whilst trains weren't as unnerving as buses, there was still something about public transport which had a tendency to put him on edge. And whilst Merlin knew it was ridiculous to put so much faith in Arthur after he'd helped him calm down from one single panic attack, he still found himself incredibly relaxed. Even though he couldn't help it, he also felt kind of indebted to Arthur after that day at the supermarket. Arthur had seen him at his worst, at his most vulnerable, and he hadn't pushed him away, he hadn't questioned it, he'd just dealt with it. Merlin wasn't sure if that sort of debt of gratitude was the kind that could ever be repaid. He just hoped Arthur knew how much he'd appreciated it. Although the journey wouldn't have been tediously long without the company, the journey passed much faster with the easy conversation that flowed between the two of them.

They were both very glad to see the familiar train station of home, lugging their suitcases off the train and looking around for their parents who had come to pick them up. Merlin saw where Arthur got his good looks from when he saw him embracing his mother on the platform. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders in gentle waves, and her blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight as she smiled at her son. By contrast, Hunith seemed a far less glamorous parent, but Merlin would have chosen her over supermodel-good-looks-Ygraine any day. Hunith pulled him close and he buried his head into the crook of her neck breathing in the comforting scent of home. She smelled of cinnamon and earthy cut grass and burnt toast. It was good to be home.

Merlin settled in back home ready for the long months of summer. He was a little unsure what to do with himself, now that he no longer had lectures and deadlines to structure his day by. So he spent his time texting Arthur, hoping he wasn't being a nuisance.

MERLIN: So bored already - this summer is going to be so long. How is your mum's?

ARTHUR: Now I remember why I usually live with dad - more freedom! He doesn't care what I do whilst she won't leave me alone!

MERLIN: Hahaha looks like you just can't win :P

ARTHUR: Please say your mum is being as clingy as mine. PLEASE.

MERLIN: Nope! I have a regular mum who realises her son is actually all grown up now

ARTHUR: HA! All grown up, yeah right! You'd poison yourself if you ever cooked anything besides ready meals :P

MERLIN: It's not ignorance of the kitchen, it's my wisdom of realizing there's no point cooking if the supermarkets will do it for me

ARTHUR: You're gonna need to learn how to cook at some point, at which point i will laugh at your inevitable disasters :D

MERLIN: It's alright I'll just pay you to cook for me - in the interests of me not poisoning myself, I'm sure you'll help me out right?

ARTHUR: Yeah you wish! Hey, want to come for a run tomorrow? Gotta get you in shape ready for quidditch shenanigans :P

MERLIN: Just because I don't play doesn't mean I'm a total couch potato! But yeah - where do you want to meet?

ARTHUR: Want to test out that bravado against me? I'm a well oiled machine my friend! See you by the Arboretum?

MERLIN: I will see you there and leave your ass behind in the dust!

The next afternoon they met with the sun shining overhead, the light breaking through the leaves and casting dappled shadows on Arthur's face as Merlin approached him.

"I'll have you know I was great at cross country at school, Pendragon."

"Yeah, but how much of that have you kept up since leaving?"

"Ten quid says that I keep pace with you the whole way."

"A tenner says I own your ass on this run, you cocky little shit."

"Oh, you are so on! Give it all you've got!"

Arthur flashed Merlin a cheeky grin before he set off without warning, leaving Merlin to scramble to catch up before they settled into a gentle rhythm to warm up. Arthur could see how much more relaxed Merlin was in his hometown, compared to when he was at uni, where a baseline of tension always kept his shoulders slightly tighter than everyone else's. Their feet pounded the track around the Arboretum in synch, a steady drumbeat which drove them ever onwards. Until Arthur decided he'd had enough of that gentle jog and pushed forward, stretching out his legs and running fast enough to feel his muscles begin to burn with the effort. This was what he loved about running - the feeling of being alive, of feeling his muscles stretch to the limit and push through, the ache of his lungs as they sucked in oxygen. Arthur felt his face begin to redden with the effort, glancing across to check how Merlin was keeping up.

Merlin's long legs were keeping up just fine, a grin on his face as he easily pulled ahead of Arthur on the track, looking like he wasn't even breaking out into a sweat.

"Dude. What the hell?"

"Like I said - I'm an endurance runner. Who said I haven't been exercising at uni?"

"When do you _ever_ have the time to run?"

"I like running at night - it clears my head!" Merlin shouted back to Arthur as he pulled even further ahead, forcing Arthur to shut up and push harder to catch up to him. Luckily for Arthur, Merlin did actually slow down slightly so that they could keep running together, instead of him leaving him in the dust like he'd promised.

They finished their run back where they'd started, after looping all the way around the Arboretum twice, and they both stood, chests heaving, as they tried to regain their breath before stretching out.

"Okay, so maybe you don't need to get your fitness up before playing. Jesus Christ, Merlin! That came out of nowhere!"

"I did warn you that I was a long distance runner. I'll have you know I placed second in the county at the under 18’s trials."

"Oh, did you now? Let's see how you do on a quidditch pitch before you get all smug with me."

"I have no doubt you'll wipe the floor with me on a quidditch pitch - that's your game, not mine - yet."

Arthur couldn't help but smile at the 'yet'.

 

"You ready for this?" Arthur asked as he tied his studs. It was a week later, and they'd managed to snag a fairly open space in the Arboretum to host Merlin's first quidditch practice.

"Yeah, I mean, what could go wrong?" Merlin sounded slightly breathless as he shrugged, and Arthur could see that the tension in his shoulders was back. He hated it. He hated the fact that Merlin's own mind could make him so uncomfortable in his skin, even doing something as casual as this - just jogging round to warm up. There weren't many people about, it was only Arthur who was talking to him and yet he was tense. Arthur wished he could help Merlin somehow, provide more effective support than just being his friend, but he had no clue what he could do to help. If someone has a broken leg, it's easy to let them lean on you as they limp along for a while. It's not so easy when it's someone's brain making them limp.

"Well, come on then, let’s give it a go," Arthur tossed Merlin a volleyball and held out his makeshift broom. The team’s proper brooms were still in Camelot, so they were just using wooden broom handles for now. Since they weren't playing contact rules, Arthur figured they probably wouldn't break, so they'd be alright.

"Okay, you've got the quaffle now, so we'll do some chaser drills and see how you like playing that first."

"I thought you were going to train me as a beater?"

"Yeah, but then you had the most ridiculous stamina ever. We could use a chaser with stamina like that- and we may as well see where you'd prefer to play."

They ran up and down their little patch of grass for a while, tossing the quaffle back and forth between them, Merlin getting used to the feeling of running with a broom between his legs and holding the ball tucked under his arm. It was a strange sensation to get used to, and he nearly tripped over his own broom a few times before he worked out how to move his legs in co-ordination with it. After a while, they moved on to shooting practice, which was a bit more difficult seeing as they didn't actually have any hoops to shoot through. Arthur stood in front of the three cones he'd laid out, to represent the three hoops, and just told Merlin to get it past him up high, so that it would probably go through one of the imaginary hoops. When they tired of that, Arthur moved him onto beater drills.

They were a lot more fun than the chaser drills had been, in Merlin's opinion. Sure, the chasers got most of the glory by scoring the goals, but the beaters got to throw dodgeballs at people and constantly send them back down the other end of the pitch. They could defend or attack as they saw fit, and could protect their own chasers when they had quaffle possession. Merlin couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the protection aspect that really attracted him. Plus, throwing dodgeballs at Arthur was really rather satisfying. They kept switching around the drills, getting Merlin used to different styles of play and the different skills he'd need to have as a player until the air started turning colder and they realised they'd better trudge home. With aching muscles and flushed faces and childish grins, they parted ways, promising to meet again the next day.

Merlin realised as he washed the mud off his legs in the shower that Arthur had thrown his arm across his shoulder and patted his back in celebration of completing his first practice and he hadn't flinched away.

 

Arthur pulled his trainers off at the door, hopping inside before his feet got cold. He was tired and his muscles had that well-worn ache from a good days exercise, and he was very much looking forward to lazing about the house that night before curling up in his soft bed. Ygraine had other plans. Plans which included a lot of cleaning, and gardening and adjusting vases of flowers until they were ‘just right’.

There was a reason Arthur had chosen to live with Uther after the divorce. Growing up, he'd seen them in screaming fights, felt the vibrations of slammed doors through the walls of his bedroom, covered his ears with his pillow to muffle their shouted words to no avail. He knew neither of his parents were perfect. Uther was a workaholic who never seemed to care about anything but his job. Ygraine was the opposite. She cared too much about things and that made her hurt. It also made her angry and scared and upset. Arthur knew Ygraine was pretty emotional, but it was still a shock to the system to see how much she'd changed just by living alone for the past ten years. Arthur had only ever spent weekends at her house growing up, he'd never stayed there for any period of time even close to the length of the university summer break. It was taking some adjusting.

For the first time, Arthur realised how withdrawn his mother was when she wasn't shouting at him for not quite putting something back in its exact place. He wondered what it was he recognised in her that he hadn't seen before, whether he hadn't noticed it because of his own inadequacy, or because he just didn't understand it before meeting Merlin. She was withdrawn because she was nervous, she wasn't cold like Uther was, she was hesitant like Merlin, craving affection but too scared to ask for it. Instead, she let the frustration brew inside her until she couldn't hold it back any longer and it exploded out of her in a whirlwind of rage.

Arthur wondered if she had always been like that or if that was the toll of being married to Uther for twelve years. He pushed the thoughts out of his head as he lay on top of his bed. He wasn’t particularly keen on over-analysing his parents’ failed marriage. Tired, but not quite ready to sleep, he grabbed his phone and texted Gwaine.

ARTHUR: Had first practice with Merlin today - went well, think he's excited to play

GWAINE: That's great mate! Any preference for a position yet?

ARTHUR: He's leaning towards beater, like you predicted - he's got the stamina of a bloody shire horse though! Could make a good chaser too

GWAINE: Sounds like you spotted a good one in the doctors you creep

ARTHUR: Hey! It's not my fault he was sat there looking so damn handsome. What's a guy to do?

GWAINE: Surprised you didn't scare him off you plonker

ARTHUR: I'll have you know that I have more finesse than you

GWAINE: Oh yeah? If that's the case, why haven't you kissed him yet?

ARTHUR: Jesus christ Gwaine! We're just friends

GWAINE: And you fancy the pants off him

ARTHUR: Oh shut up you tosser

GWAINE: Just because you know I'm right.

Arthur glared at Gwaine's text and refused to reply, knowing Gwaine would be laughing his ass off at Arthur's stubbornness anyway. He hadn't meant to develop such a ridiculous crush on Merlin. He'd just wanted to be friends for God's sake. He hadn't meant to smile every time he said his name, no matter what mood he was in, or wonder if his hair was as soft as it looked, or think about how much he'd like to kiss his lips when Merlin bit them nervously. It was bloody ridiculous - he was acting like a silly hormone riddled teenager for crying out loud - he should be _past_ all of that! As awkward as it would have made things that night, Arthur almost wished he'd given into that ridiculous moment of tension between them that first night at the pub, because then by now he could actually be in a committed relationship and he wouldn't still be stuck in this stupid pining stage. Not that Arthur would ever admit that he was pining for Merlin. Not at all. He just didn't want to go one day without his company, and that was worth putting up with all of Ygraine's screeched demands. All of it was worth it, just to see the smile on Merlin's face as they ran or practiced together. When Merlin smiled, it was like the sun shined out of his bloody face.

Arthur groaned, and hit his head against the wall. He couldn't _believe_ he'd just thought that.

 

Merlin wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but as the summer dragged on, he had the sudden realisation that he was actually craving Arthur's touch. After he'd spent so long flinching away from stray limbs on the street, holding himself back, standing on the outside of the group so he would be missed out in the round of goodbye hugs, it was just _nice_ to finally let someone in. Arthur was gentle with him, and understanding, and caring, and he never pried, never overstepped the boundaries. Merlin found himself wanting the heavy, comforting weight of Arthur's arm around his shoulders as he walked down the street. He wanted to feel Arthur's strength as he pounded him on the back after a good practice. He wanted Arthur to hug him and hold him tight, safe in his arms. It wasn't that Merlin had blind faith in Arthur. He was only human, of course he'd end up letting him down at some point, that was inevitable. But Merlin had finally decided that maybe that was okay. It was okay to put your trust in someone. Trusting someone and letting them in wasn't about making sure they were infallible. It was about trusting them despite the fact that they weren't. Merlin let his anxious heart reach out and trust for the first time in so long, and oh god it felt so good, he could have cried with relief. His anxiety had felt like a burden for so long, and now he saw  
that he didn't have to carry the weight of it alone.

 

The summer days passed by slowly enough, and yet the start of the next academic year seemed too close to be fair. Merlin didn't want to have to leave the safety and comfort of sleepy little Ealdor behind, and even though Arthur would be coming with him back to Camelot, he'd grown so used to seeing him pretty much every day that it felt as if he'd never see him again when they got back to university. It was like he was going into withdrawal or something. The start of term was so hectic, what with moving into his new flat with Freya and enrolling on new modules and finding the new lecture theatres and learning his new timetable and the quietest shortcuts between uni and his flat that a whole week had gone by without Arthur and Merlin having seen each other even once.

MERLIN: Is it kind of ridiculous that I miss you?

ARTHUR: Would it be kind of ridiculous to say that I've missed you too?

MERLIN: Oh god we're as bad as each other! Look at the pair of us - not able to last a week apart!

ARTHUR: Haha! We're pretty pathetic :P this absence needs to be rectified - Round Table tomorrow night?

MERLIN: Oh god yes! Need to see your stupid face, remind myself just how much of a prat you are :P

ARTHUR: Oh, you wish you could forget me! ;)

Gwaine came into Arthur's bedroom as he pressed send, and promptly laughed at the expression on his face before declaring that he was officially in love.

"Look, just admit it mate - You've got a thing for our little Merlin and you can't do a thing about it!"

"Oh, fuck off Gwaine. And get out my room, you nosy prick!" He tossed a book at him to shoo him out of his room. Why the hell had he decided it would be a good idea to move in with him? The man had no concept of personal space!

Besides, he had touched on a bit of a raw nerve. Arthur knew he was past the point of no return with Merlin. He also knew if he pushed anything that he'd likely end up losing Merlin's friendship - something he just wasn't willing to risk. Every time Merlin let him past his barriers, Arthur fell a little bit more in love with the man he was allowed to see. The Merlin behind the barriers was kind, and sweet, and funny as fuck, and Arthur kind of wanted to spend the rest of his life with that guy. He knew it was ridiculous, and he tried to shake the notion from his head. Merlin was one of his best friends now, he couldn't afford to ruin something like that. It just wasn't worth it. So of course Gwaine's comments stung. Of course he was in love. Gwaine just didn't understand that he couldn't do anything about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

Gwaine paused outside Arthur's shut door, thinking. And scheming. He sauntered down the corridor, hatching a plan and smirking to himself.

 

Merlin had known it wasn't just going to be him and Arthur at the pub, of course it wasn't. The rest of the guys would be there too, which would be great fun, but he couldn't help feeling slightly bitter about the fact he no longer had Arthur all to himself. He'd kind of grown accustomed to that over the summer. He ended up crowded in between Gwaine and Lance, across the table from Leon and Arthur and Percival and Elyan. Despite his tiny bit of jealousy, Merlin had to admit that it was pretty nice to see everyone again. It did kind of feel a bit like a reunion. It was only when Arthur and Leon had gone to the bar to buy the next round of drinks that Merlin realised Gwaine was trapping him in the booth. He only realised this, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, when Gwaine turned to him with a smile which was _far_ too innocent for the dirty minded Aussie.

"So, Merlin. I hear you spent a lot of time with Arthur over the summer."

"Uh. Yes?" Merlin coughed awkwardly, not quite sure where Gwaine was going to lead with this train of thought. Knowing Gwaine, it could (and would) be absolutely anything.

"A lot of _alone_ time?" The combination of Gwaine's emphasis and his raised eyebrow put Merlin on high alert. Oh shit! Had Arthur realised something during those summer practices? He thought he'd managed to hide it so well! Bollocks!

"Um. Well none of you guys were there but -"

"I don't have time for your rambling, seeing as I have to get this done before Arthur comes back from the bar so shut up a minute. I'm sure your summer with Arthur was very lovely and you both had a great time and blah blah blah, but the more important thing is this. Please tell me you have noticed his huge hard on for you."

"His _what?!_ " Merlin worked very hard to stop his voice from squeaking. He didn't quite succeed.

"His raging hard on. Now tell me - have you noticed? Yes or no?"

"No! No, what are you talking about? He's not even gay!" Was Gwaine having him on? What the hell was going on? If this was some kind of joke he was going to absolutely punch the crap out of Gwaine afterwards.

"Princess over there most definitely is gay, mate, and he most definitely does have a thing for you."

"Even if that's true - and I don't believe you for a second - why the hell should I listen to you?"

Lance, who had been watching this conversation with amusement, took this opportunity to chip in.

"I've known him since primary school Merlin. He's never once used an emoticon in a text to me."

"How the hell would you know if he uses emoticons when he texts me or not?"

"Hacked his phone when he went to the loo this morning at breakfast. Quite simple actually." Lance shrugged and leaned back into the cushions of the booth and drained the last of his pint just as Arthur and Leon brought the new drinks back.

Merlin was forced to try and school his features into anything resembling normality instead of being allowed to have time to freak the fuck out over this new information. Although, really, emoticons? _That_ was their evidence of Arthur's crush?

 

That night, when he found his way back into his flat after far too many beers, he stayed up in the kitchen, eating crisps as a midnight snack, trying to figure out if what Gwaine and Lance had said could actually be true.

It wasn't like Arthur was cold and distant with him, and maybe some of their banter did cross over into flirting territory, but Merlin still found it extremely unbelievable. Arthur'd never acted like anything but a friend towards him, had he? Had he? Now Merlin was questioning himself. As if it wasn't hard enough to work out if someone fancied you back or not, he had to have Gwaine, of all people, tell him. Gwaine was not known for his trustworthiness. Gwaine was known for his pranks and practical jokes and none of that was helping Merlin believe him.

Before he really knew what he was doing, Merlin called Arthur.

"Gwaine was probably just being a dick tonight when he told me you 'have a raging hard on' for me, right?"

Merlin slumped forward over the kitchen table. His head was spinning from the alcohol, and it was only as he waited for a reply that he wondered if maybe he shouldn't have started this call until he was sober, but it was too late now.

Arthur spluttered, and sucked in a deep breath.

"GWAINE!" He bellowed. On the other end of the line, he could hear Merlin's groan of protest at how loud his shout was, immediately felt guilty. "Shit, sorry, Merlin. Didn't mean to shout in your ear."

"'s'alright. Er, so, about what Gwaine said..."

"Yeah, look, I had no idea he was going to- hey! Gwaine! Damn it, give me back my phone!" Arthur's voice suddenly sounded further away, and Merlin frowned at the confusing scuffling noises he could hear.

"You weren't supposed to tell him I told you, you wanker! You were just supposed to kiss him!" Gwaine's voice came down the phone, cut off as Arthur tussled with him to get the phone back.

"And you weren't supposed to tell him about me!" Arthur's voice came back on the line. "Now get out, you've done enough for one night!" Arthur sighed as he was left in silence in his room, wondering how to begin explaining things to Merlin. "What was I saying before?"

"That you had no idea he was going to tell me." Merlin sounded timid now, his courage having fled during the brief struggle between Arthur and Gwaine.

"Oh. That. Yeah. He worked it out weeks ago, didn’t think he’d actually say anything though. Apparently I underestimated just how much he likes to meddle in other people’s lives.” There was a touch of bitterness to Arthur’s lighthearted tone.

There was a pause before Merlin spoke again.

“You’re not actually denying it.”

“No. I’m not, am I?”

“Does this mean it’s true? You fancy me?”

Arthur cleared his throat, before ploughing ahead with his words, as if by saying them quickly he wouldn’t be able to hold any of them back.

“Yes. Yes, I do. And I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to put any pressure on you because being friends is great, it’s more than enough and I don’t want you to feel like you have to feel the same-”

“Arthur. Arthur, stop! It’s okay. I, um,” Arthur could hear Merlin’s swallow, his hesitation. “I like you too.”

“Oh.”

There was another awkward silence, as they both tried to work out what that meant for them.

“Does that mean you’d be up for going on a date with me?” Arthur decided he may as well plunge in head first whilst he had the opportunity.

“Um. Yes?” Merlin’s voice was quiet, but hopeful, and it made Arthur blush with such happiness that he shook his head at how ridiculous he was being.

“Okay! Great, that’s, yeah that’s great. I – I should get to bed, I’ve got a lecture at nine. I’ll text you about it? About the date?”

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight Arthur,” Merlin replied, biting his lip slightly in anticipation.

 

If Merlin had remembered that the next day was his first practice with the full quidditch team, he wouldn’t have called Arthur that night. Unfortunately, he hadn’t remembered, and so he awkwardly stared at his feet for a while when he first arrived at the park for practice. He was early, like he was for everything, but the sun was out and it warmed his legs as he leant against the trunk of a tree on the side of the field.

Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder as he walked up, stirring Merlin from his thoughts.

“You alright there, Merlin?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

If Merlin was being honest, he was more nervous of seeing Arthur after last night than he was of playing with the rest of the team for the first time. Admittedly, they weren’t going to be playing full contact until Merlin was ready for it – something he was intensely grateful for – but still. He knew that logically he should be more anxious about the fifteen or so other players coming to the practice, but when had his anxiety ever been logical?

He only realised Arthur was also nervous around him when they caught each other’s eyes, half-smiled at each other, and looked away quickly. Arthur was louder than usual, brash and bold, directing passing practices and beating drills, showing off his leadership skills like a peacock preening his feathers for his lady peahen. Merlin wondered if Arthur knew he was doing it.

All things told, Merlin actually enjoyed the practice, despite his mind being very thoroughly distracted. He worked with Gwen, Morgana, and Mithian and some others on some beating drills. They chatted back and forth as they threw the dodgeballs at each other, and soon enough Merlin realised that even though he hadn’t seen the girls on the nights out at the pub before, he really got on with them. The idea of playing a game with them didn’t really seem out of the realm of possibility.

Merlin didn’t know how Arthur had explained his issues with physical contact to the rest of the team. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But as he was walking home, sweaty and grinning from the endorphins, he realised nobody had encroached on his space. No one had even knocked into him accidentally. The realisation made him smile even more.

 

A couple of weeks had passed by the time Merlin and Arthur managed to organise their date. What with quidditch, and society socials, and reading, and essay deadlines, it had been pretty hectic, and both were looking forward to the chance to just relax in one another’s company for a couple hours among the whirlwind of activity.

Merlin had been fretting about what to wear from when they’d organised it, right up until he left the house. It wasn’t even his house, it was Mithian’s house. She had decided that one year of living with Gwaine was enough, and head left Arthur to his fate. They’d really bonded pretty well during practices, and she had taken it upon herself to guide all of Merlin’s decisions for his first date. It wasn’t just her – Freya had come along, since she knew Mithian from her course – and then Mithian’s housemates were there too. Which led to Merlin being fussed over by no less than five different girls, fluffing his hair and adjusting his clothes until they looked just right. Merlin had never felt so much like a child since he had actually _been_ a child, trying to escape his mother’s hands and the comb which she tugged through his hair.

He’d been pushed out of the house with shouted wishes of luck from the girls, and now he found himself walking to the coffee shop he was to meet Arthur at. He couldn’t get over quite how cliché of a first date it was, but at least it was somewhere he was familiar with. He took a deep breath before he pushed the door open, a bell ringing over his head, and he scanned the room, looking for Arthur.

Arthur hadn’t taken his eyes off the door for the past ten minutes. He knew his palms were sweaty from nerves, that his cheeks were flushed from the adrenaline. He had tried telling himself that this wasn’t any different from any other time they’d gone out for coffee, but he knew he was lying, and so it hadn’t helped at all.

The door chimed and Arthur stood up to greet Merlin as he came over, unwinding his red scarf from around his neck.

"Hey," Merlin said, a little breathless from the walk there.

"You look good," Arthur commented as they sat down across from one another. Their little table was tucked away in a corner of the coffee shop, away from the hustle and bustle of the main area.

Arthur went over to the counter to order, and got caught up in the queue, leaving Merlin to sit and fret for a good ten minutes. He tried not to let his thoughts get too out of hand as he sat there twiddling his thumbs. He could feel his muscles tensing up, and he forcibly tried to relax them, focusing on counting his breaths in and out and nothing else. It seemed like an age passed before Arthur came back with their drinks.

"You alright? Sorry I was gone for so long," Arthur said as he settled back into his chair.

Merlin nodded quickly in reply, grabbing his drink and sipping the burning hot coffee so he could avoid answering the question more fully.

After the first few minute of awkward small talk was out of the way, they managed to relax into the rhythm of their usual conversation, and soon enough Merlin relaxed fully and let himself just enjoy Arthur's company. They laughed and joked and insulted each other playfully until Merlin checked his phone and realized just how long they'd sat there, just talking. Not that he regretted a single minute of it, but it was getting on to six o'clock, and he needed to get back to his flat. He'd promised to cook Freya tea and then completely forgotten all about it.

So they left the warmth of the coffee shop and walked back towards campus together, continuing their easy chatting as they went. The sun had started to fade, the way it did in the late moments of summer before the seasons fully switched over to the chill of autumn. There was a bite in the air, the warmth from the sun vanishing along with its light as they strolled, and their hands found warmth clasped in each other as they passed under the trees planted along the street.

"I really enjoyed this afternoon," Merlin said quietly as they reached Arthur's flat. It wasn't too far out of the way from Merlin's way home, and they'd just ended up there by silent mutual agreement.

"Yeah, me too. Looks like we're not as disastrous together as Gwaine would like us to be."

Merlin chuckled at that, before glancing up into Arthur's impossibly blue eyes, shining in the dusky light. They both fell quiet again, the only sounds being the cars passing by on the street not too far away, rumbling off into the distance as they stood there, holding hands and staring at each other.

"Can I - can I kiss you?" Arthur asked, tripping over his words as he blushed.

And Merlin grinned, and closed his eyes as he leant in, and then they were kissing, and it was more than Arthur could ever have hoped for. It was soft and warm, and it was full of joy. They held each other close as their breaths warmed each other’s faces, kissing and kissing and kissing until it seemed like that was all they'd ever done, all they were ever made to do, until eventually Merlin pulled back, breathless and embarrassed by his sudden show of affection.

"Um. Sorry."

"Hey." Arthur caught his chin and tilted it up so he couldn't look away, smiling down at him. "Don't apologise" And he leant forward and pressed their lips together again, a slow goodnight kiss, caring and chaste.

"Text me when you get back, okay?"

"Of course," Merlin replied, and they hugged goodbye, and Merlin walked off, trying to hide the fact he was grinning like an idiot as he walked home alone.

 

Merlin hadn't meant to get so invested in his relationship with Arthur so quickly, but it just felt like everything _clicked_ between them. He didn't need to explain things about his anxiety to him, they just came up and they dealt with them and they moved on. It was easy, safe somehow, in a way that he hadn't experienced before.

Merlin was honestly having a hard time believing that his relationship was going as well as it was. He hadn't exactly had the best track record with boys before he came to university. There was Will, an ill-advised snog on the school field as preteens, which confirmed Merlin's homosexuality and Will's heterosexuality. Then there had been a couple idiots who Merlin had nearly fallen for, and probably would have, if they hadn't revealed that it had all been for a dare before things got too serious. By the time he was sixteen, Merlin had quite had enough of the boys in his secondary school, and he wasn't entirely convinced that he was unlovable, but he was pretty close to it.

So when Cenred came along in college, seeming so much older and cooler than Merlin, with his leather jackets and scuffed up Doc Martens, and his sarcastic charm, topped off with his dauntingly good looks, Merlin was screwed. He'd have gone through college with a massive crush on him if he hadn't shown any interest at all, but then he'd seen Merlin reading the last Harry Potter book and he'd started a conversation about the films. One thing led to another, and Merlin found himself in a relationship with this guy who seemed so far out of his league he couldn't even begin to understand why Cenred had any interest in someone like him.

Now that he looked back on it, Merlin recognised the beginnings of his anxiety showing when he was at college, which couldn't have helped things. But he couldn't have known. Nobody could have known about Cenred. He hid it too well.

Sure, they were great together - for a while. But then things started to change. At first, it was such inconsequential things that Merlin didn't even notice. He just brushed it off as Cenred having a bad week, stressed out from coursework deadlines. But as the months passed, and his friends dwindled away as he tried to keep Cenred happy without realising what it was doing to himself, he found himself in a situation he couldn't deal with and no way out.

Cenred never actually hit Merlin, but he was always aware of the threat that it could happen. Cenred was the sort of person who picked fights in shady bars because he could. He worked out all the time, just to prove that he was the cock of the walk, the toughest guy there. When they first started dating, Merlin had been awed by his strength, and hey, the six pack abs hadn't exactly hindered their relationship, but the longer they were together, the more Cenred lorded it over Merlin, making fun of his skinny frame in comparison to his muscles.

It wasn't just that though. It happened so slowly that Merlin didn't even realise it was happening. He just woke up one day and realised he hadn't seen his friends in months. He'd just spent all his time with Cenred. And then when he tried to meet up with Will, go watch a movie or just hang out at the park or do _anything_ , Cenred made plans which conflicted with Will's. He pleaded with Merlin to see his side of the argument, saying that he should take priority, he was his boyfriend, not some childhood mate he could just meet up with at any old time. And then Merlin began to realise that he hadn't seen Will in months and months and it wasn't because Will hadn't tried, it wasn't because Will was a terrible friend (like Cenred said), it was because Cenred stopped him from seeing him.

It had taken months and months, but Merlin eventually realised what was happening. Every time Cenred stopped him from seeing his friends, or threatened to break up with him if he didn't go to the pub with him, or slipped in a snide insult hidden by an innocent looking comment, he just crushed Merlin further and further into the ground. Thinking back on when they had started seeing each other, Merlin realised that somewhere along the line, he'd stopped being happy. He'd stopped getting excited about seeing Cenred at the weekends, and he'd started feeling like it was almost a chore, but one he couldn't wheedle his way out of doing.

Once he realised he was trapped, he couldn't ignore the prison bars Cenred had built around him whilst he was blinded with love-struck eyes. He railed against them, but found himself beat back every time he tried to squeeze his way out of them. It was like the blindfold had been lifted from his eyes and he could suddenly see the truth of the matter. And he hated it. He hated it, he hated it, he hated it. The longer he couldn't get out, the more he started to hate himself, turning the anger inwards, blaming himself for being foolish enough, for being stupid enough to get fooled by Cenred's cheap magician's tricks.

In the end, it was Will who broke down the prison walls and found a way for Merlin to escape. Which wasn't particularly surprising, since Will had never liked Cenred to start with. Maybe he was too cocky for Will's taste, maybe had realised he was a controlling asshole before anyone else did, but it didn't really matter. Will showed up at Cenred's flat one day, and he refused to leave until Merlin left with him. He'd played it off under the pretence of being pissed off that he hadn't seen Merlin in so long, and that they'd barely even been able to text each other, but Merlin saw right through it.

Will had slept over at Merlin's house for the next two weeks, just to make sure Cenred wouldn't try anything, and that Merlin didn't convince himself that he really did love Cenred after all and go back to him.

So when Merlin started dating Arthur, and he found himself so overjoyed in those first few weeks, almost _too_ happy, he got scared. It was understandable really. Their dates were going swimmingly, Merlin couldn't imagine he would ever get tired of kissing Arthur's soft lips, of holding his hand, of clinging to him in the most heartfelt hugs he'd ever had. And yet .... and yet. There was that voice again, the one which told him people were staring at him as he walked home from lectures, the one which told him he shouldn't say anything because people would think it was ridiculous and besides, he didn't have anything worthwhile to say, only this time the voice focused on Arthur.

It started quietly, as it always did whenever it found anything new to fixate on. Just a niggle at the back of his mind that something wasn't quite right. And it grew from there, until Merlin was arguing with himself, terrified that Arthur would turn out to be another Cenred, only Arthur would never be like that, he simply couldn't, but still the voice whispered. _Yes, he can,_ it told him, _and he will. You should get out now, stop him from even having the chance. Then he won't have to put up with you anymore. He'd probably be grateful if you broke up with him._

__

It took a few weeks for Arthur to notice. Something was definitely off about Merlin. He wasn't as enthusiastic as usual, not even in quidditch practice, which was where he seemed to come alive. It wasn't as if he'd never been anxious around Arthur, hell he'd basically spent their first few meetings trembling in fear, but this - this was different. It was almost like Merlin was a different person. Then Gwaine brought it up, and then Lance, and then Mithian.

"Is Merlin alright? He's very quiet today," she commented during practice. They were still playing non-contact, just working on basic skills, honing and sharpening them so they became instinctual.

"Of course he is." Arthur replied brusquely. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Mithian gave him a sympathetic smile. She knew exactly when Arthur was bluffing - she could read anyone like an open book.

"Do you want me to talk to him for you? Just as friend, nothing more."

"No!" Arthur ducked his head, ashamed of how rude that had come off. "I mean, yes, that would be very kind of you. Sorry. I'm just worried about him."

Mithian patted his shoulder, before wandering off to join in with the beater drills again. She knew better than to get angry at Arthur when he acted like that, it was just a defence mechanism really, nothing more.

Arthur didn't know when Mithian planned on speaking to Merlin, but he knew that she hadn't done it yet when they met up that night. They were supposed to be going to the cinema, then out to a restaurant afterwards for a late meal. Arthur found himself watching Merlin more than he watched the screen, noticing how he leant away from him in the cinema seats, his hand white knuckled where it held onto the armrest. This wasn't like Merlin at all. Even when he was anxious he was moving - tapping his hand on his thigh, or bouncing up and down on his tiptoes. It was like he physically couldn't make himself stay still. Seeing him like this, holding himself so still he could have been a statue if not for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, this was disconcerting. This was more than his anxiety.

They left the cinema, and they didn't hold hands as they walked to the restaurant. Merlin sat with his back pressed up against the chair, bolt upright as his eyes flicked everywhere, focusing on everything but Arthur. When their food came to the table, he barely touched it, just moving it around on his plate more than anything else. It was only when he went to the bathroom that Arthur could see this mask cracking, as he spotted the tremble in Merlin's hand before he closed it into a tight fist as he walked away from the table.

Inside the bathroom, Merlin locked himself in a cubicle and sat down. He pressed his knuckles into his eyes, as if he could physically prevent any tears from leaking out. It was no good, of course, and they spilled over his skin, hot and shameful. He couldn't believe he was crying. It was just a stupid meal, for god's sake. But the longer he sat across from Arthur, the more afraid he became of eating anything. Surely, if he ate too much, Arthur would make a comment about it, tell him he was wasting his money by eating so much, tell him he should stop right then since he was worthless anyway.

It was all so goddamn ridiculous, he knew that, but that voice just wouldn't shut up, and if he didn't manage to shut it down, he'd end up panicking again. In a bloody toilet stall. He sniffed loudly, and wiped his nose with some toilet roll, hoping his face wasn't too obviously red. He'd hate for Arthur to know that he'd been crying. He knew, logically, that Arthur was nothing like Cenred. He knew he was ridiculous for being so scared that because they were so happy something terrible would happen. He knew that, he did. But he still couldn't stop that fear from creeping into his brain, making him sick to his stomach. He couldn't even imagine Arthur's reaction to his fears, not that he wanted to. He wiped his face dry, and hoped he looked vaguely presentable. Steeling himself with a deep breath, he clenched his fists again, digging his nails into his palms as a reminder that he had to keep it together, just until he got home, and he pushed the door open back into the restaurant.

Arthur knew right away that Merlin had been crying. His eyes did that thing where even the slightest hint of tears would make them an angry red for the next few hours. His cheeks were blotchy and flushed, and all Arthur could do was sigh and hope he was okay. Silently, he berated himself for not being able to express everything he wanted to in words. All he wanted to do was make sure Merlin knew he was there to talk if he needed it, but every time he even thought about saying something like that, his throat closed up and his mind went blank. He was so crap at words. He tried to show that he was concerned, but he was pretty sure he failed when Merlin flinched back from his gaze. Damn it. He just hoped that Mithian would be able to get to the bottom of this. He just didn't understand what was happening. Everything had been going so well between them! And then - this. Frustrated, Arthur gave up, writing the night off as a failure, and he resigned himself to spending the night tossing and turning in bed, trying to figure out answers he couldn't even hazard a guess at.

 

Merlin would very much rather have been curled up in bed, in his own flat, but instead he was back at Mithian's house. Freya had dragged him out, refusing to let him wallow in his self-doubt, saying he just needed a good girl’s night in and he'd be right as rain. Freya was a good friend, but goddamn, there were times when she just didn't understand that he meant it when he said he wanted some time alone.

Which was how he found himself on a corner of the couch, covered by a pink fluffy blanket, with a bowl of popcorn on his lap as Elena settled down next to him, stretching the blanket over her too. The girls were having a mock-slumber party, watching cheesy films, eating junk food, and spending the entire night in the comfiest pyjamas they owned. They chatted loudly as they organised drinks and snacks, all of them talking over one another as the DVD menu for Legally Blonde played on the TV in the background.

They eventually got themselves sorted and pressed play, and the room was filled with laughter at Reese Witherspoon's witty one liners, and by the time it got to the bend'n'snap scene, all the girls were stood up, acting it out alongside her. Merlin rolled his eyes and took the chance to sneak out to the kitchen to get some more popcorn, not realising that Mithian followed him.

"Oi. Wizard boy. Mind coming upstairs with me for a minute? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"I - um. Okay?" Merlin was _not_ a naturally trusting person.

Mithian only spoke again once they were sat down on her bed, with the door closed. She didn't really know how to approach the topic, but she'd never been one to shy away from difficult situations. Hell, she'd put up with Arthur all through secondary school, when he was still arrogant and insolent and not at all the charming, funny idiot he was now.

"Is everything alright with you?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't it be?" Merlin was immediately on the defensive, and Mithian sighed. She should have seen that one coming.

"Are you sure? Because I'm not the only one who's noticed that something's off. Maybe ... something happened between you and Arthur?"

She watched as his jaw tensed, and his eyes went cold and detached.

"Look, I know you don't have any reason to spill your guts to me, but Arthur's really worried about you, and well, we both know he's kind of rubbish when it comes to expressing his feelings, and we just want to know if everything's okay. I thought things were fine between you two?"

"They are. I mean, I think they are. I don't know. Is he really worried about me?" Merlin had thought he'd been prepared for anything Mithian could throw at him, but admittedly that had been a curveball. He wasn't expecting to hear that Arthur was concerned about him. Why would he be?

"Yeah, of course he is! He's your boyfriend, why wouldn't he be worried about you?"

"Well, I -" Merlin broke off. He didn't really know where he stood now. Should he tell her why he was so scared? Was that ridiculous? Would that just make him seem more pathetic than he already did?

"Merlin?"

"Um. Yeah. Just a minute." He dropped his head into his hands, trying to sort through the jumble of thoughts which threatened to swallow him whole, trying to find some sort of sense in it all.

"But - I thought he - I thought he would - I-" He started shaking, the tears springing to his eyes in frustration. He couldn't figure out what he wanted to say, and he couldn't figure out how he was supposed to feel anymore. Somewhere along the line, the voice had taken over, and logic had been left to gather dust in the corner, and now he couldn't work out what his anxiety was making him think, and what was true.

"Oh, Merlin," Mithian said, and she pulled him close into a hug which broke down all the barriers he'd tried to construct, and he found himself leaning on her shoulder as he sobbed and coughed into the soft fabric of her monkey onesie. "What's been eating you up, hey?"

"I don't - I can't -" His words were lost in another wave of crying, and she held him close, her arms comforting him as he curled up against her side, trembling. She just sat there, soothing him with slow rubs up and down his back, letting him take his time.

"I don't understand! Arthur can't be worried about me! He doesn't even really want me around!" He finally said, muffled against her back, but his words were full of anger and hurt and confusion.

"Of course he wants you around, Merlin. Why on earth wouldn't he?"

"Because - because I'm _broken._ I'm broken and he knows it and he just wants me gone and if I don't go then he'll just-"

"He'll what? Break up with you? He wouldn't dare do that, he likes you too much"

"No! He'll -," Merlin paused, and when he carried on speaking, he'd gone very quiet, his voice small and lost in the expanse of Mithian's room. "He'll just keep me so he can control me, and he can show off how well he's got me under control." He shuddered and started shaking again.

At this, Mithian unfolded from the hug and held him at arm's length, her eyes full of shock and worry.

"Merlin, why would you say something like that? You're not broken, and he wouldn't _ever_ try to control you, and if I ever find out who made you think like this, they're gonna have hell to pay!" She started off gentle, but there was no denying the anger in her voice by the end of the outburst. "Look, you trust me, don't you? You know I'd never lie to you."

Merlin nodded slowly. He wasn't one to trust easily, or widely, but she was right. He did trust her. She was the sort of person who took the policy that honesty was always the best option, no matter how many feelings it hurt.

"Then you know I'm telling you the truth when I tell you that Arthur would never hurt you like that. He wouldn't dare. He thinks you're absolutely wonderful, and he's scared he's done something wrong and that he's screwed it all up between you two, and you're scared that you're going to do something to screw things up and you're both so busy being worried that you've not realised that what you have is great! Do you know what he said before the first practice you came to? He told us that if any one of us laid a hand on you that he'd personally make sure they were banned from the next three games we played. He wouldn't hear of any of us doing anything that would make you uncomfortable. He'd rather stick a needle in his eye than do anything that would hurt you! Okay?"

"I'm just scared-"

"I know you are, and that's okay. Don't ever let anyone tell you that your feelings aren't valid, because they are! It's alright to be scared, but I promise you, Arthur's just as scared of losing you as you are that you'll do something wrong. And look, I'm not asking you to tell me your life history. I don't need to know why you're so scared that he wants to control you. I'm just asking you to take a leap of faith."

"Faith's not exactly my strong point..."

"Doesn't matter. Promise me that you'll try. It's breaking my heart to see you two this way, and I'm not even in your bloody relationship!" Mithian gave a short laugh, more like a breath of air than an actual sound, but it made Merlin smile all the same. Maybe if Mithian said that everything would be okay, then it would. She was staring at him with those deep brown puppy dog eyes she did so well, pleading with him to at least give it a go.

"Okay. I believe you." Merlin was sure that he didn't really sound like he believed her, but it was good enough for Mithian, who promptly tucked him into bed and gave him strict instructions to not go back downstairs unless he really wanted to. She'd make his excuses to the other girls, and let him be. Merlin didn't really intend on falling asleep, but before he knew it, he had. He drifted off into dreamless sleep, the most peaceful rest he'd had for weeks.

MITHIAN: Talked to him. He seems a bit better. You're gonna have to do some talking too though.

ARTHUR: Thanks Mith, really appreciate it. I'm going round to his for tea tomorrow, we'll see how it goes.

Arthur hesitated before he knocked on Merlin's front door. He hadn't seen him in a few days, not since the last quidditch practice, and honestly, the thought of sitting down for a meal together after the last time scared him shitless. He hated to think how Merlin was feeling right now.

Freya pulled the door open for Arthur, letting him in as she left. She was going to spend the evening in the library, working on an essay so she wouldn't be in their way. They would have the flat to themselves.

Arthur pushed the door shut behind him, hearing the click of the lock, and made his way through into the kitchen, where Merlin was peering worriedly through the oven door.

"Hey. Is everything alright?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sit down, it's nearly ready." Merlin waved Arthur away, and returned to peering at his cooking. Arthur shook his head in amusement and settled down at the table to wait. He was at least used to Merlin's almost obsessive focus when it came to cooking.

A few minutes later, they were tucking into a sausage and bean casserole, which had thankfully turned out perfectly, sitting in near silence as they ate. Neither of them really said a word until they'd finished eating, both sensing that maybe this wasn't a conversation to have whilst there was hot food on offer.

"So. Mithian told you to talk to me, didn't she?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"No! Don't apologise. It's a conversation we need to have. I just, well, I want to apologise first off. I'm sorry for acting like a dick."

"What? You didn't act like a dick at all! You were just, all cold and distant. It was weird. It was like you'd been replaced with robot Merlin instead of my actual boyfriend Merlin."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry, okay? I was just, oh fuck, I was just scared, alright? Everything seemed to be going too well and I convinced myself that I was going to mess it up and ... yeah."

Arthur stared at him, and blinked a couple times before replying.

"You're a right idiot, you know that? As if you could mess this up! If anyone's going to screw this relationship up, it's me. You're far too good for someone like me!"

"What do you mean, 'someone like you'? You're wonderful! And normal!"

"What's that supposed to mean? That you're not?"

"Well, yes! I'm not normal. I'm crazy."

"No, you're not. You're not crazy, you're not abnormal, you just have a more sensitive sympathetic nervous system than some other people. That's all it is."

"I have a what?"

"That's - that's what causes anxiety disorders. Like yours. I can't remember where I read it, but it's like one of those car alarms which goes off when there's just a gust of wind. You're not actually in danger, but your brain thinks you might be, and that's why you get all panicky."

"I - really? That's it?"

"Yes! You're just not as much of a numbskull as some of us."

“Oh.”  Merlin fell quiet, looking down at his hands.

“Was there something else you wanted to tell me?”

Merlin out his head into his hands and tugged at his hair as he tried to work out how to tell Arthur everything he needed to.

“If you don’t want to-” Arthur started.

“No – it’s alright. Um. The thing is, I got all freaked out because the last time I was in a relationship and it was going well, things turned sour. And I was scared it would happen again.”

“Wait – sour in what way, Merlin?” Arthur’s brow was wrinkled in concern. Merlin wondered he could ever have believed he might turn out to be like Cenred.

“It wasn’t that bad, really. But it wasn’t a _good_ relationship. A healthy one. He – well, he was controlling, and – look, it doesn’t matter, I just wanted you to know why I freaked out.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s fine, but Merlin, you know you can tell me anything, yeah? If I’m doing something which makes you uncomfortable, tell me and we can work it out.”

“I know. I needed to apologise for how I acted though, you didn’t deserve me being all robot-Merlin on you.” Merlin frowned for a moment. “Are – are we good?”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Of course we are. You've got nothing to be sorry for, Merlin. Now come on, let's watch some crap telly." Arthur smiled at his boyfriend, glad that they'd finally straightened things out. He took his plate into the kitchen and then settled down on the couch in the living room, spreading his arms wide in invitation.

Merlin accepted, leaning back against him as they stretched out on the sofa, pressing his back into Arthur's warm chest. Things finally felt right again.

They fell quiet for a while, watching the animal documentary Merlin had wanted to see.

"So, other than all that stuff, how has your anxiety been lately? You seem to be better, at least to me, anyway."

Merlin sighed, but it was a fond kind of sigh, nothing like the exasperated ones he'd let out earlier.

"It's not better just because I'm not having panic attacks around you. I just don't panic as often if I'm with people I trust."

"Well then, what about when you're not around people you trust?"

"It's the same as always. It's just kind of... _there_ , in my head. I'm not always thinking about it, but it still changes how I think, what I do. It's not something I can just shut off."

"No, I get that you can't just shut it off - I was just wondering."

He went quiet again, thinking back to when they first met.

"That was why you were at the doctors, wasn't it? The first time we met, in the waiting room, you were there about the anxiety, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was. Oh god, I was so close to panicking when you started talking to me!" Merlin cracked up, amused by how ridiculous it all seemed now.

"Have you - have you thought about going back?" Arthur was hesitant, trying to figure out the best words before he said them. "Not that I think you need medication or whatever, just. Well. They might be able to help, mightn't they?"

"They didn't do anything last time, just said I was stressed about coming back to uni. I'm not holding out much hope for the NHS."

"Isn't it at least worth a try?"

"Well, I could go again, I'm just not sure they'd believe me. They didn't really seem to last time so..."

"Well, it's your decision, I was just wondering."

"That's fine, don't worry about it," Merlin turned around slightly in Arthur's arms, smiling up at him. "I know you worry about me, but honestly, I can deal with it. I'm kind of used to it now." He leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. "Now shush. I'm trying to listen."

 

Life went on, much as it always had, time passing in a blur of lectures and dates and quidditch practices. Merlin worried over inconsequential things, like putting all the shopping in the fridge after a trip to the supermarket, and wearing the right shoes to the cinema, and Arthur made sure to tease everyone at quidditch for equally ridiculous things. Things were good again. Life was back to normal -  
however normal that really was.

It was yet another Wednesday afternoon spent in the park, running drills with bludgers and quaffles and shouts of laughter filling the air. Practice wasn't officially over, but there was something about sunshine after a week of rain which made everyone giddy. Breathless and muddy, they abandoned their brooms and hoops in favour of exploring the underbrush of the trees at the edge of the field.

Afterwards, no-one would truly remember who started the mock duelling, such insignificant details lost in favour of what happened next. It had actually been Gwaine who started it, grabbing a twig and waving it at a bludger he threw in the air as he cried _'wingardium leviosa!'_

Everyone laughed at him, and Elena found her own 'wand' to challenge him with. Soon, they'd roped everyone else into their antics, forming miniature duelling battles in threes and fours.

Merlin and Arthur found themselves in a standoff against Gwaine and Elena. Merlin felt like an utter fool, holding a damp twig out in front of him, playing pretend like a little kid. Arthur saw his hesitation, and cocked his head slightly in a silent question. Merlin shook his head a fraction and flashed Arthur a small smile.

"I'm fine," he mouthed, and raised his makeshift wand to face Gwaine's shouts of ' _bombarda'_. 

" _Stupefy"_ Merlin cried in return, flicking the twig towards Gwaine's chest.

And that was when everyone forgot that it was Gwaine who had started the duelling to begin with.

Gwaine flew backwards, the shock of the hit to his chest sending him stumbling backwards until he tripped over his feet and fell down.

The team stared in shock.

"What the hell?" Merlin said quietly as the twig fell from his slack hand.

There was silence, No-one knew how to react.

Until Gwaine stumbled to his feet and pointed intimidatingly at Merlin, proclaiming,

“Yer a wizard Harry!”

And then everyone laughed and Merlin let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

Arthur came up behind him, slipping his fingers into the gaps between Merlin’s, and he whispered in his ear.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just – what the fuck was that?”

It was only on Gwaine’s insistence that Merlin agreed to try again, and this time Arthur saw the golden glow of his eyes before he saw the flash of fear behind it.

Merlin thought he was okay, but it was taking some time to sink in. He could do magic? What did that even mean? Why hadn’t he been able to do it before, messing about with Will when they’d just seen the Harry Potter films? He’d much rather have escaped the excited team’s prying eyes and tested out his apparent spell-casting skills back at his flat, but even after Arthur realised this and told the others to piss off it seemed like years before they were along again.

Arthur tactfully didn’t mention the fact Merlin’s hand was sweaty and trembling clasped in his as they walked back from the park.

 

Merlin collapsed onto the couch in his flat, numb from shock. What the hell had just happened? Magic wasn't real, magic didn't exist, it was just a kid's story! Arthur put the kettle on and sat down beside him, holding his hand tightly again, but not saying anything, just letting the whole thing sink in.

Merlin felt like he was dreaming, this wasn’t real. This was just a very bizarre dream, and he'd wake up and go to quidditch practice and nothing extraordinary would happen. Nothing at all. This wasn't actually happening. Was it?

"Did - did that just happen?" He was quiet, his voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur kind of sputtered a little, not quite willing to say 'yes' since he couldn't believe it either, but he certainly wasn't denying it. It had definitely happened. Impossibly, it had actually happened.

"What the _fuck?_ " Merlin eventually said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "That - that's bloody ridiculous! I'm not a bloody wizard!"

"You do have the name for it," Arthur commented, straight faced, with a shrug of his shoulders. Merlin swiftly shoved him off the settee.

"Oh, shut up! Mum was just a fan of Arthurian legends, okay?"

Arthur just gave him a look, one eyebrow raised, and that was it. They collapsed into hysterical giggles, for lack of a better reaction to what had just happened. It was so unexpected that they didn't really have any other way of reacting.

Later that night, just before Arthur went home, he brought up something that hadn't occurred to Merlin yet.

"So, if you're Harry Potter, does this mean there's actually a Hogwarts somewhere?"

"What? _No -_ there can't be! That's absurd!"

"Well, how else are you gonna learn how to use it?" Neither of them had worked up the guts to actually call it 'magic' out loud yet, even though that was obviously what it was

"Oh my god. I have to find Hogwarts."

 

There was, in fact, no such thing as Hogwarts, as Merlin soon discovered. Half the stuff in Harry Potter had been a massive lie, it appeared. Although the existence of magic seemed to actually be true, one could not use owls to deliver messages, and one didn't even need a wand to cast spells. Merlin found out that particular fact when he dropped Freya's favourite mug doing the washing up and he stopped it from smashing on the kitchen floor at the last second, without even realising it. That was in the first few days after the eventful quidditch practice. He was slightly dreading going to the next one. He'd managed to get out of going to the pub that Friday under the excuse of having too much uni work to do, but he wouldn't be able to avoid everyone's questions forever. He and Arthur had spent plenty of time together - all the time they could spare, if they were honest - but he wasn't sure if he was ready to share his 'gift' with the others quite yet. It had been bad enough that they had all been there when he'd discovered it!

He and Arthur had done their best to try and figure out how to use it, but honestly, it wasn't like there was a whole lot of research out there that they could refer to. Merlin had managed to find a few texts buried in the back of the university library archives, presumably there for that one module on occultism, but other than that resources were few and far between. In actual fact, the texts Merlin had found weren't even that useful anyway, since they referred to punishments for witchcraft and curses more than they were some sort of instruction manual for supernatural powers. They'd been doing the best they could, working out which motions worked best for focussing his power, if he needed to use the actual words of spells or just picture what he wanted in his mind, and they'd been having more success than they'd expected to have. 

Merlin couldn't have asked for more from Arthur. There had been a small part of him which worried that Arthur would run a mile after he'd accidentally blown Gwaine backwards in practice, but of course, he should have known that Arthur would never do anything of the sort, Arthur hadn't been anything but supportive for the entire thing, and, what more could he ask for? Neither of them really had a clue what was going on, they were just making the best of it.

 

Arthur knocked on the door to Merlin's flat, again. He'd been stood outside for a good ten minutes waiting for someone to come let him in. They'd agreed to meet up again for more magic practice, but Merlin just wasn't answering the door. Or his phone. Arthur sighed in frustration as the phone went to voicemail again. And then the concern drew in, settling in the pit of his stomach, cold and uncomfortable, as Arthur began to think about all the reasons Merlin might not be answering. He didn't even think about the most likely ones first, his brain going straight to disaster mode and picturing Merlin lying comatose in a hospital ward somewhere after a horrible car accident, never mind the fact that Merlin couldn't drive yet. It never even crossed his mind that it could be his anxiety kicking off.

Inside his bedroom, Merlin stared at his ringing phone like it was a wild animal ready to pounce on him. Everything had been going so well, until that last lecture after lunch. The lecturer had been asking questions about the previous weeks' reading, which Merlin had most definitely done, and he'd just frozen, rabbit in the headlights style. He should have been able to answer the question no problem, he knew the study the professor was referring to, but all of a sudden he couldn't find the words, and then that sick feeling crept into his stomach, and his hands were trembling and he knew exactly what was happening, of course he did, and just before the voice of panic took over, all he could think was, 'oh for fucks sake, not _again'._ and then it hit him and it took everything he had to stop himself from crying and hyperventilating right there and then.

_Oh god please just ask someone else ask someone else ask someone else please oh god oh god shit not again I can't panic, not here, not here, please oh god not here, don't let them find out, I'm a freak freak freak, broken freak, I'm going crazy this is it, I'm finally going crazy in a bloody lecture theatre, oh fuck, oh god, I can't breathe, shit shit shit, can't breathe can't breathe, please just ask someone else, can't you see i can't breathe._

At which point Merlin felt the now familiar feeling of his magic zinging though his fingertips, setting of a whole new wave of panic. He was so busy focussing keeping the panic under control, digging his nails into his thighs, that he didn't notice the professor move on and ask another student about the study, barely batting an eyelid.

_Oh god, shit, did anyone see, did I just out myself as a wizard in the middle of a lecture, shit shit shit, they're going to lock me up, they'll take me away, they'll take me away from Arthur, I'll never see mum again, they're gonna experiment on me, oh fuck, bloody hell, I can't believe I just did that, please say no one noticed, oh shit oh shit, can't breathe can't breathe need to breathe, need to calm down, fuck, can't calm down, fuck fuck, I just outed myself, shit._

Merlin didn't really remember anything else after that. Logically, he knew he'd left at the end of the lecture, that he'd walked home, that he'd unlocked the door and gone upstairs to his bedroom, but he didn't really remember actually doing it. He'd just curled up in a ball on his bed in the dark, letting the quiet soothe his senses, bringing him back down to earth.

And there it was again, Arthur pounding on the door downstairs. Merlin glanced between his phone and his door guiltily, trying to decide whether to let Arthur in or just text him and tell him that he wasn't feeling well. Then his phone started ringing again and made the decision for him when the voicemail kicked in - for the fourth time.

"Merlin? Are you okay? I'm outside your flat, but no one's answering, and I don't know if you're in, but I hope you're okay. Text me, please. I don't mind if you don't want to see me, I just want to know if you're alright."

The recording cut off and Merlin ran his hands through his hair.

MERLIN: I think the door's unlocked. I'm upstairs. Could you be quiet please?

He chewed on his lip as he heard Arthur try the door and stamp his feet on the doormat before locking it behind him. He flinched instinctively when his bedroom door cracked open, the light from the hallway spilling in and lighting up the dark sanctuary.

Arthur peered around the door, seeing Merlin etched out by the golden light of the hall. It made him look like some kind of elf, bringing out the gold flecks in his eyes, making them dance in the low light. His eyes were wide, and full of fear, and the image cut straight though Arthur's heart, making him burn with the desire to make it all better.

"Hey. Rough day?" He asked, voice soft so he wouldn't startle Merlin further. He shut the door gently behind him. "Want me to come over there?"

Merlin shook his head, not trusting himself to be able to say the word 'no'' right at that moment. Arthur just nodded, and slid down the wall to sit on the floor across the room from him instead.

"Started panicking in my lecture," Merlin eventually said, after they'd sat in silence for a good five minutes.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

"Got asked a question. Couldn't speak. Couldn't think properly."

"Did you get out of there?"

"No. Couldn't." He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands. "I just froze."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You did what you needed to, and that's fine." Arthur wanted to hug him so damn much, but there was no way he'd risk doing it right now. It just wasn't worth it - all he'd do was upset Merlin even more, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He could wait, he wasn't the one in need right now.

"I did something with my magic. I don't know what. I - oh, _god,_ \- I was so close to outing myself!"

Arthur could hear Merlin's breath hitching, speeding up, and his eyes widened in alarm. He was starting to panic again.

"Merlin? Merlin, listen to me. You need to breathe. Just count your breaths with me, come on, we've practised this. In for four and out for eight." He began counting, slow and steady, never wavering, never hesitating, just letting Merlin settle into the rhythm of his voice. Slowly, gradually, he calmed down, and crawled off the bed over towards Arthur, curling up in his embrace, and they fell in sync, chests rising and lowering as one.

"There, is that better?"

Merlin nodded against his chest, finding comfort in the familiar weight of Arthur’s arms wrapped around him.

"Do you remember what you did with your magic?"

"Not really. I was panicking and then I felt it and then I just panicked about that."

"Did the lecturer notice?"

"No idea, He gave up and moved on. I think he asked someone else. Not sure."

"Wait ... Not that I'm an expert on anxiety _or_ magic, but I bet you were thinking something along the lines of wanting him to ask someone else just before you felt the magic, right?"

"I - I guess so."

"I think you might have made him ask someone else."

Merlin leaned back, and looked at Arthur with an incredulous expression on his face.

"I wasn't capable of rational thought, how the hell would I have been able to do that?"

"Well, what the hell is rational about magic?"

Merlin didn't have a comeback for that.

"Think about it. You wanted him to go away, you felt your magic work, and then he moved on? That's a little too much of a coincidence for me to not believe it. Also, your magic is pretty instinctual. There's no reason it _wouldn't_ react to you panicking."

"Well ... I guess that makes sense, but ..."

"But what? This is great opportunity Merlin! You can use it to help you! "

"Magic isn't able to fix the way my sympathetic nervous system works, Arthur. If it could, that would have been the first thing I did."

"Of course it can't, but you can still use it to help you manage your anxiety, can't you?"

Merlin cocked his head, considering the idea. If he hadn't been freaking out over possibly exposing his magic in the lecture, then sending the professor away actually might have worked to help calm him down. Maybe Arthur was right, and it could be used as a tool like that, almost like a coping mechanism, or a safety blanket.

"But, what if I screw up and out myself as a wizard? I mean, I'm not the most 'in control' when I'm panicking. I could easily just hurt someone and that would make everything a thousand times worse!"

"Well, we'll practice. We can work on it until you won't be a risk to anyone else. And if you do something showy, well, people don't believe in magic, do they? They'll probably write it off as a trick of the light or something. Hell, the only reason half of us quidditch lot believed it when you shot Gwaine backwards was because we're all Harry Potter nerds!"

"Do you reckon?"

Arthur could see Merlin still wasn't too sure about the whole idea.

"Look, Merlin, you don't have to decide right now. As far as we can tell, the magic is here to stay, so you've got all the time in the world to decide if that's how you want to use it. Don't worry about it."

"No, I want to do it, I just - well, you know me. I always think of the worst case scenario for everything."

So magic practice took a rather different slant to the way they'd been spending their time in the previous few days. Now they were focussed, with one sole goal. Arthur had offered to be Merlin's guinea pig, trusting in him completely to not screw up. They decided to try and recreate what Merlin had done to his lecturer earlier that day getting him to change his focus away from Merlin. It was Arthur who came up with the idea of making it difficult to focus on Merlin in the first place, like the perception filters used in Doctor Who.

It was a strange feeling, being on the receiving end of Merlin’s magic, especially like this. Arthur tried his hardest to look directly at his boyfriend, to ask him questions, to do anything which actually directly focused attention on him, but by the end of the night he wasn’t having any luck. It seemed like Merlin had actually gotten the knack of doing it pretty quickly. Which was rather strange, considering that he hadn’t really been able to grasp seemingly simple things like levitation nearly that quickly, or with such precision. Arthur grinned, when he realised he could barely even see Merlin standing right in front of him anymore.

“Alright, alright, time to knock it off!”

Merlin let the glamour drop with a laugh.

“Oh my goodness, you should have seen your face Arthur! It was hilarious! You were trying so hard, and you got all pouty, like this.” Merlin demonstrated, pulling an exaggerated facial expression to tease him.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have made such an idiot of myself, had you not been quite so good at it! I think we’ve found your forte – stealth magic. Hey! Maybe you could be some sort of magical super-secret agent, and no one would ever know you were coming, because you’d just magic your way out of their perception.”

Merlin punched his arm, and nearly tripped himself up as he lunged over to reach Arthur.

“See? That is why I’d be a rubbish secret agent. I’m too clumsy!”

 

They greeted each other with warm hugs and a quick kiss at the next quidditch practice, laughing as Merlin fended off all the awkward questions about his magic from their teammates. They had decided that it was time to introduce Merlin to contact play in quidditch, now that he had a safety blanket of magic to fall back on in case anything went wrong.

He wasn’t going to lie, Merlin was feeling pretty jumpy about it. But he knew Arthur wouldn’t let any harm come to him, and he’d spent enough time getting to know the team over the previous months that he was reasonably sure he’d be alright with the physical contact. He wasn’t naturally a very tactile person, and the thought of getting up close and personal with complete strangers on a pitch didn’t exactly thrill him, but he didn’t want to hold the team back any longer. There was only so long you could hone the basics for.

Arthur started him off gentle, just doing some basic tackles, with enemy beaters coming up to try and steal the bludger from his arms. Again and again, they ended up locked in a miniature version of tug of war, trying to hold the brooms up with their thighs as they grappled for the ball. Inevitably, one of them would overbalance and pull the other down with them, neither of them willing to sacrifice possession in order to save their dignity.

They fell over and over again, Merlin and Gwen, Merlin and Mithian, Merlin and Percival, over and over they rolled onto the ground, thankful that it wasn’t too hard. The air was filled with breathless laughter, everyone exhilarated by the adrenaline of it. This was why they played quidditch – for the thrill of it, the pure and simple joy of playing a game from their favourite childhood books.

At the go ahead nod from Merlin, Arthur called them all back in, and demonstrated some more brutal tackling techniques. He showed them how to get low and wrap their arm around the waist of their opponent, so they could spin them out of the way, or charge them backwards. Merlin wasn’t too sure how much he’d enjoy doing these sorts of tackles – they looked like too much contact for his tastes, but he was willing to give it a go. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d look like a fool if he didn’t, since everyone else was keen to give the rugby style tackles a go.

From the sounds of it, the team hadn’t actually practiced tackling all that much, preferring to make it up on the fly, like Gwaine did. Merlin had spent some time watching footage of the previous year’s games on the university union website. Gwaine’s style of gameplay was almost acrobatic, the way he leapt over bludgers coming at him, quite literally flying over the top of them, and how he danced out of the way of other chasers' outstretched arms. He didn’t even give them a chance to get into such a physical tackle like this. Merlin had a feeling that he wouldn’t really be slowed down by it all that much anyway.

Arthur paired Merlin up with Mithian for the tackle practices, knowing that they would work well together, bouncing ideas off one another of how to improve their footing and their technique. Mithian laughed at how hesitant Merlin was to duck down and ram her with his shoulder.

“Oh come on, wizard boy! I’m not made of china!” Her laugh floated out of her, rising up into the treetops like birdsong. It was a joy to listen to.

Merlin shook his head at the nickname, and mentally braced himself before he widened his stance and brought his arm around her back, her warm body pressed to the space between his arm and neck. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Merlin thought it was going to be, and when he managed to turn her away, leaving her facing the opposite direction, a little thrill of success filled him up. This tackling business wasn’t all that bad after all.

They carried on like that for a while, Arthur going around and checking everyone’s technique, making sure they wouldn’t make illegal moves or injure themselves in the process. He stopped by to check up on Merlin.

“You doing alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Merlin replied, a wide grin on his face. He couldn’t help it. The adrenaline of doing something so new was infectious, and everyone else's good moods was lifting him up, making him buoyant and happy.

Once Arthur was happy that everyone was comfortable with the new techniques, he set up a mini game, splitting the squad into two mini-teams, and letting them play for a little while. He made sure Merlin was always on the pitch at the same time as Mithian, so at least one of the other team’s beaters would be familiar to him when they came up to try and get possession off him.

When Merlin was sent down the pitch to try and get the bludger off Gwen, he hesitated for a moment before sprinting the length of the pitch, arriving at Gwen’s side before she had time to register that he was coming for her. He knew Mithian was distracted by his team’s chasers, fighting over the quaffle, so this was his chance. He ducked under the arm she held out to ward him off, and reached behind her to try and pop the bludger out of the crook of her elbow, where she was holding it close to her body. It didn’t work, and they toppled over with his momentum, shouting in surprise but carrying on playing anyway, since neither of them had been hurt. Merlin ended up on top of Gwen, broom trapped between his legs, and hands free to fight for the ball.

The feeling of achievement that flooded him when he got hold of it and launched himself back onto his feet, one hand clasping his broom, the other keeping the bludger close to his chest, was worth every minute of the stress he’d put into playing quidditch. Arthur had been so totally right, those months ago, when he said that he thought Merlin was interested. Quidditch was the best thing ever!

 

They had been planning on going out as a whole big group for Bonfire Night, but then Arthur saw that there was a fair coming to town that weekend, and he figured that a fairground would probably be something Merlin would really enjoy, so he ended up making separate plans just for the two of them. All the others were going to a house party somewhere, which was sure to end in drama and alcohol and people kissing people they regretted kissing in the morning. Meanwhile, Arthur told Merlin to get bundled up in his favourite red scarf, and meet him by the park at 8pm sharp.

Merlin had no idea where they were going until Arthur showed up, pockets jangling with change for the sideshows, and dragged him towards the middle of the park. The bonfire had already been set up, the locals donating chopped down trees and old chests of drawers to help it burn strong through the night. The local primary schools had run a competition for building the best Guy, raising money for charity, and in the dark evening, the silhouettes of the figures waved precariously from the top of the bonfire, ready to be lit.

All around were stalls with the sort of games which were always rigged to make sure they were far harder than they looked – knock down the bottles, hook-a-duck, shoot the cans – the silly sideshow games which scammed you for money in return for the slim chance of winning an oversized stuffed animal in a variety of lurid colours.

Merlin’s eyes came alive with glee once he realised where Arthur was taking him, and he almost jumped up and down on the spot. He hadn’t been to a fair since he was a kid with Mum, and he’d wasted all his money on sweets and games and not paid attention to the brightly costumed performers.

Night had pretty much fallen by the time Merlin and Arthur made their way over to the bonfire. They’d stopped along the way, buying hot drinks and cinder toffee from one of the food vans dotted around the park, and Merlin was happily sucking away on a chunk of the sugary sweet as Arthur looked at him fondly.

The fair organisers pushed everyone back and away from the bonfire as much as they could, the crowd growing out of their control, before pouring gasoline all over the heap of wood. Once they lit the torches and laid them at the base, the flames licked higher and higher, and it wasn’t long until the whole thing was aflame, the fire lighting up the night and the smoke billowing up and up.

That was when Arthur drew his secret weapon out of his jacket, presenting the bag to Merlin’s excited eyes as they looked around for a couple of sticks. Merlin’s eyes lit up with childish glee when he saw the marshmallows and realised Arthur’s plan. Hunith had never been one to let him toast marshmallows on the rare occasions she let him have the sticky treat. Merlin forgot all about trying to appear cool in front of the boy he so desperately wanted to impress, all the freaking time, and laughed with joy as they skewered the marshmallows on the twigs and thrust them into the dancing flames.

They must have eaten half of the bag before the fireworks started going off, making Merlin jump when the first one exploded with a loud bang.

“You okay?” Arthur checked in with him. He hadn’t thought about the possibility of fireworks being a problem.

“I’m fine, it just made me jump. Now quit worrying about me,” Merlin smiled, staring up at the colourful sparks filling the night sky, before putting another marshmallow into the bonfire.

Arthur came up behind him, and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his head on Merlin’s shoulder to watch as he toasted the marshmallow. Just before Merlin brought it up to his own mouth, Arthur grabbed his arm and redirected it towards his own, commandeering the sweet.

“Hey!” Merlin yelped in protest, twisting around in Arthur’s arms, causing him to smear hot marshmallow across his mouth instead of accurately managing to aim it _into_ his mouth.

“Oh, bloody hell! Now look what you’ve done!” Arthur cried out, trying not to laugh and give way the fact he wasn’t actually mad.

“Look what I’ve done? Look what you’ve done!” Merlin retorted, which, admittedly, was not the height of wit. His eyes flicked down to focus on the white goo smeared across Arthur’s lips, and back up to his blue eyes.

Merlin leaned in, licking the melted marshmallow off Arthur’s lips with a grin before he pulled away to laugh at Arthur’s startled expression. Clearly, Arthur had not been expecting that. Instead of saying anything, he quirked his mouth up into a smirk, reaching around the back of Merlin’s neck and pulling him in for a proper kiss. Merlin made a small, desperate sound as he pushed his hands into Arthur’s blonde hair, keeping him there, and he flicked his tongue over Arthur’s lips, chasing away the rest of the sugar as Arthur parted his lips, letting his tongue slip in between them. The marshmallows and fireworks were forgotten, the twigs dropping from their hands as they focused only on each other, clinging to each other’s warmth in the cold night air, as the fireworks sparkled overhead.

They broke apart, breathless and giddy, staring into one another’s eyes, their faces lit up by the flickering light of the bonfire.

“Um. You had something on your lip.” Merlin mumbled, embarrassed.

“Did I? I was under the impression it was a person. You, to be exact.” Arthur elbowed Merlin in the ribs playfully, and they linked hands as they wandered off to explore the rest of the fairground. 

No matter how much Arthur tried, he couldn’t drag Merlin away from the milk can stall, where Merlin had taken it upon himself to win the giant stuffed dragon hanging from the roof. Arthur rolled his eyes, but duly stood by and watched Merlin make a fool of himself attempting to throw the tennis balls at the stacks of cans, hoping to knock them over. Merlin had thought he had better hand-eye coordination now that he regularly played quidditch, but apparently that wasn’t the case. He burned his way through a tenner in change before Arthur took pity on him and offered to have a go for him. Merlin pouted, but he was nearly out of cash, so his wallet persuaded him to concede defeat and let Arthur try his hand at the sideshow stall.

Arthur weighed the tennis ball in his hand, tossing it back and forth a few times before he lined up to take his first shot. The cans were stacked like little pyramids, and you had to knock them all down to win a prize. His first throw missed, going wide to the right and hitting against the backboard with a loud thud. Arthur narrowed his eyes, determined to beat the game, and let loose his second tennis ball. This one just clipped the side of the top can, making it wobble slightly.

Before Arthur threw his last ball, he paused for a moment, trying to come up with a strategy that would guarantee success with just the one toss. He changed tactic, and threw a curveball, aiming at the base of the pyramid, figuring that if he upset the base then the cans would all come tumbling down. The ball smacked into the cans, sending them scattering across the back of the stall, and Merlin let out a whoop of celebration, leaping forward to hug him as the stall owner hooked the dragon down from above them.

As they wandered back out of the fair, ready to call it a night, Merlin clung onto Arthur on one side of him, and his new stuffed dragon on the other. The thing was massive, easily as big as a dog, its burnished red wings flapping as they walked along under the streetlights. Once they were away from the crowds and the tinny organ music and the fireworks, the night was still and quiet, and they strolled along in amicable silence, just enjoying the quiet pleasure of each other’s company. All too soon they reached Arthur’s house, the lights still on inside.

“If – If you want to come inside, and stay the night, so you don’t have to walk back, that’s fine, y’know?” Arthur said.

Merlin’s face broke into a smile at Arthur’s hesitancy, and how he was staring down at his feet as he waited for an answer.

“No, it's alright. We’ve both got lectures tomorrow, and besides, Gwaine would never let it go.”

Arthur nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, of course we have, lectures, of cou-” The rest of his rambling was cut off as Merlin swept him into a kiss, resting his forehead against Arthur’s when they broke apart.

“Goodnight Arthur” Merlin whispered, before walking away into the night, holding the dragon close to his chest. _Maybe I’ll name it Kilgarrah_ ¸ he thought as he made his way back to his flat.

 

GWAINE: Meet at mine for predrinks at 10pm. We'll go to the club at midnight. You better be there!

Merlin rolled his eyes at Gwaine's text, knowing the rest of the team had probably gotten the same message. It was his birthday that Thursday, and they were all going out to celebrate it with him. In theory. Merlin still wasn't too sure about the whole 'clubbing' thing. Sure, he was a second year university student now, but he still didn't really get the appeal of it. It was just loud music, far too many people, and alcohol, right? Surely a house party was close enough to that? That's not to say he wasn't curious about the clubbing experience, but he was perhaps more reluctant than others to go try it out for himself.

ARTHUR: You going to Gwaine's birthday?

MERLIN: Haven't decided yet - not sure if clubbing is my scene

ARTHUR: I think you'll enjoy it :) If you don't, we can always leave early (Gwaine won't mind, he'll probably be too drunk to notice anyway! :P)

MERLIN: I'll think about it :) (I might come along just to see him truly hammered!)

Arthur laughed at that last comment before slipping his phone back into his pocket. He shouldn't really have been texting, but this lecture was mind-numbingly dull, and he knew he wasn't the only one distracting himself on his mobile. Not that that excused it. He attempted to persuade himself that he needed to make notes on the topic, but he found himself failing and just doodling in the margins of his notepad instead. He outlined crowns and swords and castles in the small space, venturing out into the wide expanse of the page when he admitted to himself that he couldn't care less about this class, so he may as well amuse himself. By the end of the class, his page was covered in the designs - regal crests and quidditch balls and flying broomsticks and right in the middle of the page, he'd even tried his hand at drawing Merlin before realising he really wasn't an artist and his caricature looked nothing like his boyfriend. He half shook his head, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous it seemed to him that he was trying to actually draw Merlin. He'd probably end up writing their names together next - 'Mr Arthur Emrys' - like a bloody teenage girl in those terrible made-for-TV romcoms.

Lance looked at him strangely as they left the lecture theatre, walking back to the house for lunch.

"Everything okay? You seemed a bit out of it in there."

"What? No, everything's fine! Why would I be out of it?"

Lance gave him a knowing smile.

"You were thinking of Merlin weren't you?"

"No!" Arthur denied the accusation far too quickly.

"Liar! Awww, is little Arthur in love?" He teased his friend, pushing him lightly as they walked.

Arthur blushed and didn't say anything.

"Wait ... are you? Are you actually in love with him?"

Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You are, aren't you?" Lance threw an arm around his mate's shoulder. "That's great! I'm really happy for you, couldn't be more chuffed. You two are great together."

Arthur rolled his eyes and shook off Lance's arm, but deep down, he was secretly pleased. Maybe he was in love with Merlin, and maybe he saw them having a future beyond university and beyond quidditch and maybe that was a little bit fantastic.

Merlin knocked on the door to Arthur's house. He could hear everyone inside already drinking and having a good time, and his stomach flipped at the thought that he was late.

Gwaine pulled open the door and gave him a massive grin.

"I knew you'd come! Come on in, we're in the kitchen."

Merlin dutifully followed Gwaine through the house, not that he needed directing. He had been there before, to visit Arthur, so it wasn't like it was completely unfamiliar. He spotted Arthur in the corner by the fridge and went over to greet him after giving Gwaine his present.

Merlin pecked Arthur on the lips before grabbing one of the glasses on the side to pour his bottle of cider into. Judging by the amount of empty cans and bottles already collecting around the room, he had some catching up to do.

Gwaine was visibly merry, a red flush in his cheeks, his movements more exaggerated and wild than they were when he was sober. He was currently going around giving everyone sloppy affectionate kisses on the cheek.

"He's like a puppy." Merlin commented, before taking a long drink of the cider.

Arthur paused for a moment, considering this assessment, before bursting into laughter, because really, it was pretty damn accurate.

Pretty soon, the girls all arrived at the house, in a flurry of high pitched squeals, vodka and silly birthday gifts for Gwaine. Thus proceeded a variety of drinking games which involved far more honesty and alcohol than Merlin had really expected, but he didn't really care. Arthur kept knocking into his side, giving him that smile he reserved only for him, the really fond one which made Merlin's  
heart melt a little bit every time he saw it.

It felt like it took an absolute age for everyone to get organised and ready to get into the taxis down to the city centre. They were going to one of the most popular student clubs – Fallen Kings - and for good reason too. It played good music, and it had cheap drinks. They weren't really looking for anything more than that.

The music hit Merlin like a physical blow as they entered the club, everyone showing their ID to the bouncers and getting their hand stamped as they paid their entrance fee. He could feel the bass thrumming through the entire building, vibrating along the floors and up his legs. Arthur squeezed his hand, probably for reassurance, but Merlin was more excited than anything else.

The group made their way through into the club proper, full of bright lights roving over the crowd of sweaty students dancing away. The pulse from the music felt like a heartbeat, the mass of people the body of some strange creature which thrived on adrenaline and alcohol. Then, before he knew it, Merlin was on the dance floor, surrounded on all sides by his friends, as the girls demanded everyone at least dance for a while before getting any more drinks. Arthur was on one side of him, Gwaine on the other, Elena and Mithian in front of him, and who the hell knew behind him.

It was almost dizzying, the press of bodies around him, the lights spinning and twisting and making everything far more surreal than it actually was. The music seemed to come from all around him, not just one set of speakers, but as if it just appeared and existed in those fleeting moments between beats, before vanishing into the ether. The shared joy of the club infected Merlin, who couldn't hold the grin off his face, and let himself move however his body wanted to move, just feeling the music and the adrenaline and the alcohol buzzing through his system. Arthur grabbed his hand, drawing him towards him in the near darkness, holding him close as they moved together in rhythm to the beat.

Merlin forgot about everyone else, staring up into Arthur's eyes as they grinned at each other breathlessly, swaying their hips and raising their arms in unison with the crowd, losing themselves in the feel of the movement. There was a freedom in the euphoria, sending them spinning and jumping and laughing into the night, ignoring any worries they may have had, abandoning themselves to the music.

The song finished, and the DJ mixed the ending into the opening notes of a new one, this one more sultry, deeper and sexier and slower than the one before it. By an unspoken agreement, the mood of the room changed, bodies rolling and undulating to the new rhythms which filled the air. Merlin pressed in close to Arthur, rolling his body against his in a never ending flow of motion. Arthur span Merlin around in his arms, gripping his hips and leaning in to kiss at his neck as he pulled Merlin back to sway together.

Merlin groaned at the feel of Arthur's lips on his neck and pressed his hips back, grinding his ass into Arthur's groin, sending sparks of arousal through Arthur's body. Arthur scraped his teeth against Merlin's skin, swirling his tongue along the nape of his neck and gripped Merlin tighter. Merlin covered Arthur's hands with his own, entwining their fingers as they danced, rubbing up against each other, revelling in the pressure, the heat, the friction.

Merlin broke free of Arthur's grip, turning to face him again and stared up at his boyfriend, his lip caught between teeth in desire. They leaned into each other, tongues tangling as they danced on and on, kissing away the taste of alcohol from each other’s mouths, ignoring the girls whooping behind them, cheering on their display of affection. No one else but each other mattered now, lost in the moment, lost to the touch of each other's hands, Arthur squeezing Merlin's ass, Merlin pulling Arthur's head down to meet his. Merlin hadn't imagined it was possible to feel this free in such a simple act, but just then, he was convinced the secrets to the heavens could be found if only they stayed together like this, exploring the infinities and galaxies hidden within each other's mouths and touch. He knew his feet were still connected to the ground, shoes sticking on the tacky floor, but if ever he had felt able to fly, this was it.

 

Arthur cracked his eyes open, wincing at the sunlight streaming through the curtains. He made a vague sound of complaint, and moved to get out of bed. Until he was stopped by a replying groan from the sleepy Merlin who was curled up into his side. Arthur frowned at him briefly, trying to remember why exactly Merlin was in his bed. Flashes of the night before filtered through his brain slowly, as Arthur recalled the alcohol, the dancing, the kissing, more alcohol. He realised Merlin had crashed at his place instead of going back to his own flat, and of course he had ended up being the little spoon. Arthur smiled, stroking Merlin's ruffled black hair, as he looked his fill.

Merlin was curled in on himself, his head butting into Arthur's ribcage, his feet caught along his calves. The t-shirt he'd been wearing was rumpled up, showing a flash of hipbone and stomach above the elastic of his boxers. Arthur could just about spy Merlin's jeans on the pile of clothes in the corner of his bedroom.

Nudging him gently, Arthur managed to roll Merlin over to the other side of the double bed, just enough to clamber over him and out of it. Stretching his arms above his head, Arthur pressed the heel of his hand to his temple, grimacing. His head was pounding. Damn. He was just searching out his painkillers when he heard Merlin roll over and stretch out in the bed behind him.

"Morning sleepyhead"

"Mmmmphhhh. What time is it?"

"Nearly eleven. You need any of these?" Arthur waved the packet of painkillers in the air, having found them in the corner of one of his desk drawers.

Merlin sat up, then winced.

"Ugh. Yes. How much did I drink last night?"

"No idea." Arthur shook his head ruefully. "Gwaine was buying everyone tequila the last I remember, so I would imagine a lot."

In their drunken states the night before, neither of them had had the foresight to realise that Merlin turning in up in their kitchen in last night's clothes, creased from sleeping in them, would give a rather different impression to some people of what had happened, compare to the innocent truth. Gwaine, in the middle of wolfing down a fried breakfast Lance had cooked, wolf whistled when he saw the couple enter the room.

"Looks like someone got some action last night!"

"Oh shut up Gwaine, you tosser." Arthur was rather too hungover to deal with Gwaine's oversexed jibes this morning.

  
Lance rolled his eyes at Gwaine’s indignant expression, before offering Merlin breakfast as well. Lance didn't seem to be nearly as hungover as the rest of them - a result he put down to drinking lots of water before bed.

 

At quidditch practice the next Wednesday, Arthur announced that the Camelot Centaurs would be playing in the Regional Cup. It was only a few weeks away, which meant that everyone had to make sure to turn up to practice on time, ready to go. Arthur looked pointedly at Gwaine as he said this, indicating his disapproval of Gwaine's once again hungover status.

During the practice game, Merlin could barely focus. He wasn't anxious, per say, but he was definitely distracted. He'd only been playing for a few months - and not all of that time was contact play - surely he wouldn't be good enough for competitive matches already? He started fumbling attempts to beat other players, the bludger flying off wide so many times that Mithian pulled him to the side when they were having a water break, just to check if everything was okay.

"What's going on? You're all over the place today!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just -" He shook his head. "Never mind."

"What is it?"

"I'm just not really sure I'm ready, y'know? What if I let the team down?"

"Merlin." She gave him a _look._ "Arthur wouldn't have put you on the team roster if he didn't think you were ready. You'll do just fine. Besides, you're a great beater when your head's on right, so just relax, and focus on the game, alright?"

Merlin wasn't entirely sure he believed her, but she was right. He wasn't going to do any good if he didn't focus, so he tried to keep his head in the game for the rest of practice. He landed some solid beats before the final whistle, stopping Tristan and Isolde from scoring, and he held his own as Gwen tried to tackle him for bludger possession. Arthur watched from the sidelines, taking note of people's strengths and weaknesses, trying to work out what to polish in the remaining practices before the tournament. He kept an eye on Merlin, of course he did, he always did, but he didn't seem to need much direction now. All he needed was the confidence to play to his full potential, and that would only come with time.

Merlin couldn't stay still as the bus drove down the motorway. The tournament really wasn't too far away, just an hour's drive each way, so the team had rented a minibus for the day. He was bouncing his leg up and down, staring out the window. He felt Arthur's hand on his thigh, warm and solid, comforting, but the bouncing didn't stop. He had too much adrenaline pumping through his body, and at this point he wasn't sure if it was more due to anxiety or excitement. Still, the thought of Arthur's concern was somewhat soothing, so he sent him a quick smile before returning to staring out the window and chewing on his lip.

There were going to be seven other teams at the tournament, all competing for the Regional Cup. Considering that a squad could have 21 players on it, that meant there was going to be a lot of people hanging around the pitches. Arthur had been careful to tell him all the details he possibly could in the previous couple weeks - numbers of people there, what the grounds looked like, where the teams were coming from, what facilities would be there. He was glad to hear that the team would have their very own tent which they could use to store their bags and coats, and hide away in whilst they weren't playing. Merlin had immediately clocked it as the place to go to calm down if he needed to. He was hoping he wouldn't have to, but he knew the reality of his situation. The pressure of playing, and the crowds and the noise and the physical contact, well, it might all end up being too much. He prayed that it wouldn't be.

The bus rumbled up the path towards the pitches, pulling up in the makeshift car park. Everyone grabbed their stuff and made their way across the grass, stretching out their legs as they went, cramped from sitting still on the journey. Arthur walked behind the main pack of his team, taking his time and keeping Merlin company. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and he had a good feeling about the day. It was going to be long and hard, with them playing so many games over the weekend, but he knew it would be worth it. Quidditch was always worth the bruises, the mud, the aching muscles.

The atmosphere in the park was phenomenal. People were chatting excitedly, getting ready for the first matches of the day, stretching and warming up in preparation. The Centaurs found their tent, dumped their stuff inside and changed into their football studs, ready to join the rest of the teams jogging around. Although Arthur was confident in his team, he couldn't switch out of captain mode, and he was assessing the players he saw around them, trying to work out who would be the biggest threats on the pitch. He didn't notice Merlin's hands shaking as he tied his laces, or the way his breath hitched out of rhythm as they ran. His mind was elsewhere.

Merlin fought to keep his anxiety under control as they passed through groups of other players on their jog, telling himself that surely it would settle down once he was on the pitch, doing what he knew how to do, what he'd trained to do.

And that was when everything turned to shit.

They were nearly back to their tent, Arthur was about to call for them to gather round and start stretching out. That's when Merlin saw him. And stopped dead in his tracks.

Cenred.

He was just _there,_ warming up with a team kitted out in steel grey. He hadn't changed a bit, looking every bit as gorgeous as he had when Merlin left him.

Why was he here? Merlin could feel his heartbeat pick up, his hand start to tremble, and all he could think was, why was he here?

Arthur turned round to check on his team, when he saw Merlin frozen in place, his eyes wide with fear and shock.

 _Damn it. He can't be here. He can't. Why is he here?_ Merlin felt stuck, he was so busy thinking about Cenred that he couldn't seem to make his muscles move. _Why is he here? He must know I'm here, he's here because I'm here, that's got to be it._

Arthur realised their teammates were starting to wonder what was happening, and he knew the last thing Merlin would want was for people to watch him panicking. He needed to take action.

"Merlin?"

No response.

"Merlin, I need you to listen to me. I'm going to take you to the tent, okay? I'm going to have to guide you, so I'm going to put my hands on your arms, but once you're in the tent, I'll let go, alright?"

Merlin didn't say anything, but Arthur could see the way his jaw was tensed, how his hands were clenched into fists to stop them shaking, how his eyes flicked back and forth. He took hold of Merlin's arms, pulling him along with him back towards the tent. Arthur's touch seemed to trigger something within Merlin, and he drew in a long, shuddering breath, stumbling after Arthur like a child.

 _He's here for me, he knows I'm here, he knows, he knows, he knows,_ Merlin tried not to let the anxiety take over, but it was no use. Logic went out the window and he could think about was Cenred, and how he had left him, and how angry he would be when he saw Merlin again. He stumbled into the tent behind Arthur, instinctively ducking to avoid hitting his head on the roof, and fell into a heap in the corner, tripping over people's bags. _Why is he here, he shouldn't be here, he's here for me, he's come back for me, I shouldn't have left him, I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't, oh god what if he knows about Arthur? What if he's here for Arthur, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, breathe Merlin, breathe, you need to warn Arthur, shit, can't breathe, fuck, can't breathe, can't breathe, breathe, breathe, he's here for me._

Arthur shooed people away from the tent, Gwaine taking it upon himself to stand guard by the entrance and send nosy players elsewhere, so Arthur could go back to check on Merlin, who was full on sobbing now, clawing at his arms, digging his nails into his flesh to stop the shaking, and struggling to breathe as he shook his head back and forth.

"Merlin? Merlin, I need you to listen to me. You need to breathe, like how we practiced, I'll count out loud, you just try and follow me, okay? In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight." Arthur began the slow mantra, hoping it would help ground Merlin, but on the contrary, it only seemed to make him panic more.

_I can't do it, I can't do it, oh god, I can't do, Arthur's gonna hate me, I can't do it, how can I do anything, I can't even do this, I'm such a failure, I'm pathetic, how did I ever think I was good enough for him, not enough, I'm not enough, of course I'm not enough, he's here, he's here, he shouldn't be here, why is he here?_

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, hot tears leaking out of them, as if that would help him block the thoughts out. The electric feel of his magic crawled over his skin, and he clung to it, hoping upon hope it would help him snap out of it. The feeling of warmth it created grew, turning into a fire, right at the heart of him, and all he wanted to do was curl up inside its comforting heat. He was so sick of this happening. Every time he thought he'd be okay his anxiety would sneak up behind him and ruin everything, and he'd just be helpless to stop it. 

Arthur looked on in alarm as Merlin's eyes began to glow brightly, even from behind his closed lids, his whole being seeming to vibrate with power. His face was contorted into a pained grimace as his power filled the tent, making the air thrum with magic.

"Merlin! Merlin! I know it's hard, but please, _please,_ calm down! I know that that's a shit thing to say, and I know it's really fucking hard, but you're scaring me now, and I don't know what you're going to do, your magic is kind of taking over, and I don't think it's safe. I know you're scared, I know you are babe, but I need you to be brave. I need you to be brave - for me. _Please."_ Arthur was shocked to see his hand trembling as he reached out towards Merlin. In the greenish light of the tent, his skin was ghostly pale, and the golden shine of his eyes made him look ethereal, like he wasn't real at all, but some mythical creature who had turned up in the wrong universe.

Merlin opened his eyes, his mind abruptly clear, the rolling fire of his magic subsiding. His chest heaved as he sucked in air, his lungs starved of oxygen.

"I - I can't - I can't. I'm sorry." His face crumpled in a fresh round of tears, and he curled in on himself, tucking his head under his arms.

"It's okay, it's okay Merlin, don't apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for. You panicked, that was all."

Merlin made a small noise, which Arthur took to be acknowledgement of what he'd said.

"Do you know why you panicked? Was it just because of the people, or was it something else?"

Merlin looked up and shook his head.

"No, I - um - I don't know how to explain it. It's fucking _Cenred._ " He spat the name out. full of anger and fear.

“Cenred?”

“My ex – the one I told you about. Gods, why is he _here?_ ”

"Cenred’s here at the tournament?" Arthur’s eyebrows raised in alarm.

"I saw him as we finished jogging, and I don't know, I think shock of seeing him triggered it."

"Oh shit. Do you know which team he's playing for?"

"He was wearing grey. I don't know which team that is."

"Damn. He's playing for Essetir. Our first match is against them. Shit. Look, I can talk to tournament organisers, tell them that you've just had a panic attack, and I'll sort it all out so you don't have to play against him. I won't tell them about anything other than your anxiety, but you don't have to face him if you don't want to."

"No! No, it's okay." Merlin took a deep breath before looking into Arthur's eyes, strong and sure. "You asked me to be brave, and I will. _You_ make me brave Arthur."

There was a moment of silence as Arthur took in what that meant. He would never admit it, but his eyes filled with tears and his voice was thick with emotion as he answered.

"I love you too," he said, before pulling Merlin into a kiss.

 

Merlin's legs felt like jelly as the Centaurs walked onto the pitch with the others in the starting line-up, and he could have sworn he was about to throw up from nerves when the Essetir Eagles took their place on the other side. He had meant what he'd said to Arthur in the tent, but damn, that didn't seem to mean jack shit right now, in the moments before the whistle blew and the ref shouted 'brooms up!' and the excitement of the game kicked in.

His cheeks felt tight, the salt from his tears drying on his skin in the breeze. It was one of the things he hated the most about having panic attacks. He couldn't just panic, calm down, and carry on with his day. He had to be physically reminded of it. Merlin idly wondered if he could come up with a spell which got rid of those horrible salty tear tracks, and his tell-tale red eyes.

He focused back on the game, spotting Arthur lunging low into a tackle against the toughest looking chaser Merlin had ever seen. They were locked into the tussle, Valiant with the advantage of brute force but Arthur using his own weight against him like a pro. As they tumbled down onto the grass, Valiant managed to slip the quaffle out to Cenred, who seized it and darted towards the side of the pitch. Merlin bit his lip, worrying at the slightly chapped skin with his teeth as he watched Gwaine sprint across to Cenred.

Gwaine was in front of Cenred, tackling him around the hips with speed, but Cenred just spun out of his grip, sending Gwaine careering off track, and eventually off his broom altogether as he tripped up in his disorientation.

Cenred watched him, satisfaction glinting in his eyes, as he joined Morgause and they began to make their way up the pitch.

Morgause was the only armed beater on the Essetir team at the moment, with Merlin and Gwen holding possession up near their hoops. She wasn't renowned for being a friendly player, nor one who missed. Their unarmed beater was currently bothering Gwen, trying to get her bludger from her, but she managed to dodge around him and send him back to hoops with a quick beat to the legs.

Isolde shouted for Percival to go deep and hold their hoop defence as she surged forwards in a last ditch attempt to tackle Cenred as he sped up the pitch towards them. But it was no use, as soon as she got close enough to pose any threat, Morgause shot out her bludger, sending her back to hoops. The bludger ricocheted off Isolde's arm, bouncing off the sidelines and beyond, making Morgause abandon Cenred in favour of collecting her ball.

Merlin should have seen it coming. Of course Cenred would target him and completely avoid Gwen who was actually closer to him. It would have been much easier for Cenred to just dart right past her and then shoot at the hoops and hope Percival didn't manage to stop it going in. But instead, he gave her the chance to strengthen their defence by bee-lining for Merlin, a challenge in his eye.

Maybe Cenred was trying to throw Merlin off, force him to make a poor beat and then dodge out of the way and score? Merlin couldn't figure out what Cenred's strategy was until he was right in front of him. His strategy wasn't about scoring at all, but proving to Merlin that he could do whatever the fuck he liked and get away with it. He just wanted to intimidate him. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to finally realise that Cenred was just cruel and malicious right at his very core, that he had never done anything wrong, and that Cenred would keep manipulating him as long as he possibly could. No more.

Merlin ignored the trembling in his fingers and clutched the bludger tighter. He came forward to meet Cenred on the pitch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of backing down.

It seemed almost as if time stood still for a moment as they faced each other, and Merlin had to double check and make sure his magic hadn't done anything ridiculous like that without him realizing. How could he have mistaken this cruel gleam in Cenred's eyes as passion? How could he ever have thought he loved him? All he had ever done was break him down and take away his bricks when he tried to build himself back up! Enough was enough. He'd felt humiliated and scared enough for one lifetime, thank you very much, and he refused to let Cenred do that to him anymore. And if he wasn't going to be intimidated by him off the pitch, then he sure as hell wasn't going to let him force him into submission on the pitch either.

Staring right into Cenred's eyes, Merlin hardened his stare, defiant and strong and brave, and let his bludger loose, straight into that smug face.

It bounced off with a loud noise, and Merlin reached out easily to catch it and tuck it under his arm once more. He took in Cenred's shocked expression just before it filled with the pain from his nose extending across his face, his eyes watering as he dropped the quaffle, dismounted, and stomped back to his hoops in defeat.

Merlin tried to hide his triumphant smile, ducking his chin, but then Arthur ran up to him from behind and gave him a massive bear hug.

"Not that I approve of beating with excessive force, but that was brilliant!" He whispered into Merlin's ear and they both laughed in elation.

Once the game was over, Gwaine and Mithian both promised to buy Merlin a pint for stopping the goal which would equalized the match instead of it being a Camelot victory of 60*-50.

 

The tournament had been a big success among the Centaurs - it was three weeks later and everyone was _still_ talking about that facebeat Merlin had made. It had been universally agreed that Cenred was a dickhead who had deserved it - even by those who didn't know the full story. The Centaurs had come a respectable fourth in the cup, and they couldn't have been happier with the result. The team was playing better than ever in practices, and Merlin and Arthur were almost sickeningly in love, according to Gwaine.

They'd been taking it slowly, aware of the pressure on them to have sex, but not really wanting to give in to it. Arthur knew Merlin wasn't always the most comfortable with physical contact, and the guilt he'd feel from pressuring him to do anything far outweighed the desire to take things further. But from the moment he'd sat down at Merlin's table for dinner that night, the lights dimmed and candles flickering, to right now, when they were kissing on his bed, he knew Merlin had made the decision to take that step.

Merlin's hand was twisted in his shirt, tugging him closer, and he could feel the heat of him through his clothes. Arthur licked into Merlin's mouth, parting his lips to hear that quiet gasp of pleasure, and he teased Merlin's tongue with his own. Merlin rolled him over on the double bed, trapping him under his weight as he straddled him, hot and comforting as Merlin sought out more of Arthur's mouth, biting down on his lower lip and sucking on it briefly.

"Off," Merlin insisted, as he broke the kiss and tugged at the hem of Arthur's t-shirt.

"What, do you want me to give you a strip tease?" Arthur smirked at him.

"No, I just want you to bloody take your shirt off! You're such a prat."

Arthur laughed as he stretched his arms above his head, discarding his shirt off the side of Merlin's bed. When he looked back, Merlin had taken off his own shirt, and was sitting back slightly, just staring at Arthur as he lay there under him.

"What?" Arthur asked, reaching forward to caress Merlin's jaw.

"Nothing. Everything. God, I love you." A rosy blush crept up his cheeks as he spoke, and he shook his head slightly, like he couldn't believe his luck.

"I love you, too. Are you sure about this? We don't have to do anything if you don't -" He was cut off as Merlin lunged forward to kiss him again, effectively answering his question.

And then it was Arthur's turn to flip them over, and he began to kiss his way down Merlin's slender chest, laving attention on his nipples until Merlin was arching up from the mattress to meet his mouth, small, desperate sounds filling the air.

Arthur's mouth was burning hot on his skin, branding him as he made his way closer and closer to the waistband of his jeans, and Merlin couldn't get enough of it. He was embarrassed by the sounds escaping his mouth, but he couldn't help it, Arthur's mouth just felt so damn good.

There was a pause where Arthur looked up into his eyes, the question plainly written across his face as he palmed Merlin's erection through his jeans. Merlin nodded frantically, trying to get more friction against his arousal, but Arthur moved his hand away so he could undo the zipper and pull his trousers off, leaving him lying on the bed in just his boxer-briefs. He groaned, frustrated at the lack of contact, but Arthur was soon back, having stripped off his own jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

He crawled over Merlin, a coy expression on his face as Merlin just looked back at him, breathless and dizzy. At the last minute, just before Merlin could claim his lips in another kiss, Arthur ducked his head down to his collarbones, scraping his teeth along them and sucking gently. Merlin moaned, bucking his hips up into Arthur's, and their erections brushed through their underwear, making them both pause before grinding against each other, eager for that sensation of friction again.

They didn't even bother attempting to touch each other with precision, too busy rolling their hips against one another's thighs, legs intertwined, heady on the waves of pleasure it sent through their bodies. They were frantic, hands pushing through hair, curling around each other and digging in, pulling one another so close they were nearly one person.

The closer they got, the messier their kisses were - noses bumping and teeth clashing in their desperation to ride the crest of the wave. And then Merlin was bucking up, his eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back as he came, breathy little moans escaping his mouth. Arthur groaned, biting his lip as he watched Merlin fall apart underneath him. He thrust his hips harder against Merlin's leg, once, twice, and then - his orgasm rushed through him, the sensation making him dizzy with the release, and he rolled off to the side, boneless and exhausted.

"Oh my god." Merlin said breathlessly. "We are doing that again."

Arthur made a sound of agreement, before curling up along his side, snuggling under Merlin's duvet. Merlin glanced over at Arthur, who was pretty much asleep, a contented little smile on his face, before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing a pen and paper. The words were dancing around in his head, and he knew he wouldn't be able to join Arthur in sleep until he got them out. So, he began to write.

_There's a kind of bravery in letting yourself be scared, in showing the entirety of yourself to someone, and there’s also a kind of strength in it. Love is about finding a way to be brave through the sharp barbs of the world, of letting your fear complete you, of letting bravery drive you forward, of finding that which makes you brave enough to take the step into the next day._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few things I just wanted to bring up in reference to the events which happen in this fic. First of all, my portrayal of Merlin's anxiety disorder in this fic is pretty much based entirely on my own experience, but this is by no means the only way to experience anxiety. If you think you might have a form of anxiety, I highly recommend that you go speak to a medical professional about it. If that's not an option for you, then have a look at [Anxiety UK](www.anxietyuk.org.uk) \- their website has lots of information and might be able to offer you some ideas for support, no matter where in the world you're from. 
> 
> On a lighter note, if this fic has piqued your interest in muggle quidditch (which is an actual sport, and not something I made up for the fic) then you can find more information about that at [IQA Quidditch](www.iqaquidditch.com) If you're unsure about it - don't be! It's one of the most inclusive sports out there, and it's tons of fun. (What do you mean I'm using my fic to promo my fav sport? What a ridiculous thing to say!) 
> 
> Right, that's it - I'll shut up now. I hope you enjoyed the fic, and the wonderful art provided by profiad for it!


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